AlvernoINK Spring / Fall 2017 - Page 116


To be put in a glass and sipped

upon, half empty or full is disheartening.

I’m so tasteful to the distasteful.

Mediocre in real life, but his

pleasure at night. In preparation I

mask my body with drugs and alcohol.

I wash away the scent of used; confused,

I accept more men to climb on top

of me. To steal my inner joy.

To shame me afterwards. No shame when

I’m spread like eagle wings. When he cups my breast

and dripped sweat drizzles down my back.

Fluids colliding—me riding along, no love

and no harm. Seconds seems like forever

I can’t escape this reality. Minutes are

my life’s destiny—I’m destitute. One

after another they roll off me. Smelly, wet,

breathless. Another piece of me torn off

given to the unfamiliar. Then they leave

me to wash away the pain—guilt invades me

as water rinses them away. Forever lonely, I lie back and

dream of a sensual peace one day.

NaKayla Michelle Spicer