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Two poems by Ally

 

MY LOVE

I am in perpetual
celebration
of female flesh.
Goddesses, an
Eden inside each
tingling breath.
I have tremors
at the base of
my spine, echoing
when air passes
between us.
There is an electricity
in a woman's smile.
A brilliant flash in
a woman's fingertips,
Blues and silver.
When she smiles
at me, electric
flashed return
bouncing down
avenues of attractions.
What better love then,
between two
such nymphs?

 

IRONIES

Ironic,
that my love
is so despised.
That my
undulating dances
sacred and new.
That kiss,
so manic.
Someone whispers
to me,
"Whoa Angel,
slow down your
perusing flight.
Take a load off,
Lesbian Sister.
Just clip those
wings for a bit.
Don't you want a
man between your legs?
Don't you wanna
let him taste your
oceans of cosmic
vitality?
Whoa Angel,
My hot house flower.
The cold'll wilt
those pretty pink
petals that cover you.
I love you,
just let me save you
from your love.
Whoa Angel,
cool down.
Stop living so hard.
Whoa Angel,
just tuck your soul in
Quilted lies."
"Ironic," I said.

 

Thanks for your time.

Ally, 15, lives in North Carolina.


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