A conscious state

Thirsty

I am not like this generation , I won't use your broken pieces to build a home for myself. I have learnt little fragments of the language of my love. I know what I do and don't need , I know what i crave and I want. I preach to my friends about the trash I don't need.

Are they really listening? Are my words the food off which they feed? Perhaps not , girls just like my mom is what this generation needs. Although I won't brag about the understanding she gave me of a real women. I want to arouse every part of your conscience , I want you to feel like I make love to your soul. I want my very being to intoxicate you. We should feel everything love should and shouldn't be.

Because that is growth , learning how to take care of each other once our armour has been shed , when our souls have cracked under the weight of having bled. Maybe then , when you have made me taste your love on the very tip of my tongue will I let you know how thirsty I've been for you. Maybe then when you have seen my soul uncovered and bare , I will let you taste the inside of me like we haven't got another second to spare.

I'll be worth it I know , I have kept my legs closed. You'll be the first to taste the clenching of my walls. You'll be the first to feel how the arousel stays drenched between my folds. You would be the first to come inside , the first to make the syllabus of your name fall out in gasps through my lips.

You would be the first to feel my skin uncovered against your own. And I'll be a Goddess I know , because I'll quench thirsts that have been unknown. I will show you just how thirsty I've been for your soul to be intertwined in my own.

                          -Liyah Smith