My skin is yours to feed

Don't tear my name like old white cotton sheets

Don't blame my name like broken porcelain embellishment

Don't rip my lips to feel cherry creeks between your teeth

Don't dare, you filthy cussed, reaching my eyes only when I scream

Whatever you wanted, ran immediately to the table

So arrogant deified -

my skin was yours to feed thee

insatiable hunger

Keeping my desires between the pleats hoping your foul hands would retreat -

but a monster is a monster in bed, on the streets or hidden between leaves; alone or fully seen.

Years encrypting what now my mouth can't conceal, since the eyes of men looked the same to me.

There was no robbed dignity, but time succumbing to the numbness from your deeds.

Now, dear stranger, don't pollute my name saying you love me for I can see your teeth grinding, your mouth drooling.

Is it even possible to ever face a gaze of which softness sheens?

My devotion is rigorous, and only stirs open to the kindest of them.

For my hunger only ignites when heart's tenderness lays bare.