I am afraid of sex
Yes it’s true
They said to conquer you , I need to face the truth
I don’t hate sex,
In fact I scream with excitement and unending joy when getting laid
It’s like I can’t get enough
But if you ask why I don’t you like sex
I’ll tell you I don’t know
I’m completely unaware
If you ask me What part of it don’t you like?
The part where your bodies cling on cheers of beautiful memories?
Or the parts where he thrust till your soul echoes his first name?
Or the part where he taste your opening
Living your opaque mind to do the hard work
Which part are you not in terms with?
Stories are told that love making is the best therapy for depression
It’s the insatiable reality from God
It’s the calcium deficient of the strongest of love
It’s the silence that screams down the lobe whisper ‘’I love you’’
The truth is, I don’t even know why I’m afraid of it
Maybe I haven’t come in terms with the deal
Or maybe you’d say I haven’t had a good intercourse
I am a small girl with a big God
My soul has sunk in satisfaction
I’ve had my own share of love abuse
Where even men with 3 stars on their shoulder
Meant for the right left a fear of thrusting
See why I can’t even trust sex
It was meant to be beautiful
But excuse!! Your opera mini and recent searches begins with xxx
Then you get the skeptical look like the devil in black and white sexy wide grin
I don’t like sex
But I love making love
With the chords of romance strumming in symphony
To why we should do duet of love making
Daughters of love making are my sons
Sex is rough, hard to the core and straight forward
But love making is sinking into the eyes
Beyond the depth of the soul
Making love is love making
It’s bonding
It’s special
It’s an irreplaceable moment
Making love is like soul salvation
Its joy from the inside
Feeling of inner peace
Stretches of securities
It’s like when I pick a pen to make love
My books moan not wild but in harmony
Listen carefully you’ll hear the alto with the falsetto tenor
When I make love to my career, it goes smoothly down the aisle
It doesn’t scream with grip on my neck and fingers digging my back
But embraces my eyes with a smile from my B.SC
When I make love to poetry
It doesn’t read my pulse and tell a lie, I pour my truth
I let myself feel strong and beautiful
I let myself know I’m worth every bit of love
SELF LOVE isn’t being selfish
It’s living beyond the bank
I am black girl, rough palm, pealed feet scar knee and I am unapologetic
Nobody can love you better than you.
