Remember when I danced for you?
Remember how I drunkenly pushed you away
And insisted you let me go?
To just let me dance?
In the mist of my high I had managed to strip down.
I remember thinking how ridiculously sexy I must look.
Black laces, petite breasts and tangled hair.
It was a glorified amateur recital.
On my knees I provided what you craved.
This fragile slender being,
No longer self-conscious,
And the vixen inside was free.
With every fiber of my thong,
I wanted to hate her for her disobedience
And awaken our moist bodies
From her defying silken sheets.
* A Poem from the Archives of First Love*