I was once head-to-toe inside
Of a wimmen.
So it’s safe to say
I know them inside and out.
Turns out its dark
–and bloody in there.
I figure that sex,
With all these dudes rocking
Back and forth like broken clocks
Into the pelvises of their lovers
–is an animalistic longing
To reclaim the safety of the lost,
Inner world
Of darkness and the blood.
But the hole too small,
Or The jutting body too big
–and I stop and think to myself:
How the moments close behind us, how
In life, we cannot go back,
Ehem, the way we came.
I smile, for I too have grown.