You look at my body you look at my clothes And you're ready for me to get exposed
to your eyes and your thoughts But what if I told you I've had enough
of the way I'm looked at of the way I'm touched And most of all the way I am hushed
as if my silence could grant you access to unzip my little white dress
As if by letting it fall to the floor I'd be begging for more
Perhaps I let you touch my body out of fear of being defined
But I promise you that nobody has had any claim in my mind
YOU ARE READING
A Woman For The Modern Age
PoetryI have been trying to prove myself to others. But I don't need to anymore. I have a desire for something that is so much more than what it is right now but each to their own clock. Some of these pieces have been in the works since I started writing...
