She was 18 and so very
Desperate to fall in love.
Her pussy wished to live
In a different era, in a different space.
She wanted not to be soft down there,
Like a fig, but wanted it to be
Like a woodpecker’s beak —
& wished to tear the men till they were sick.
She was a rubber, an elastic infinitum,
a dick decorum.
Yet, she needed some goddamn
Respect with proper civility from
Her fellow men.
Should she not be fussy
About her pussy?
College was a sweet pie, but
With not much of saccharine
& she was not loved the way
She wanted to be.
Drenched in sunlight, she walked to and fro
Like some Mediterranean artichoke
With a large edible thistle like flower-head.
People thought she’d never bear the fruit
That she should bear;
That she’s not technically a woman.
But, somewhere in her mind, she knew
She’d find the man she deserved
& she’d fuck him with warm heart
& be warm-hearted in love.
Because she was 18 and
Everything seemed possible.