Toward Solipsism

by March 16, 2017 0 comments

Naked,
I pull the curtain around me
and go it alone.

I am showered upon –
pin-pricked into submission
by a steady shiver of arrows.
The water runs over me
like greedy fingers
and I feel desirable.

Slowly,
I tuck my cock
between my legs –
my longing turned inward.
I’m beautiful and I ache –
every pore now receptive
to my feminine touch.

Is there no woman
man enough
to man-handle me
as I need a woman to do?

I face the mists
with eyes closed,
and from these recycled tears
feel the pain of every woman
who has ever cried
over a man.

– Larry Levy

editors note:

First, you gotta love yourself. – mh clay

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