Unashamed of my egocentricity,
I stand armoured to sin again,
Eyes panting, ears blinking,
I drool at my words,
Waiting for a lone moment to pleasure myself with them.
Denny me not a chance to court my words,
Let my verbs wet me into ripples of shy ecstasy,
Poetry of my words- see the desire on my lips,
Want me back,
Drive me into panting in between the pauses of my words.
I shall pleasure myself with the feel of my words,
Kiss the tips of their puffing madness,
Coitus with my words,
I be a misfit in your eyes,
But let me find pleasure in the words that are mine,
Stimulate the wells of my intellect,
Explode in ecstasy,
Begotten from the curves of the union of my words.
Let their staleness humour my nerves,
Breaking them into a chord, music on my skin, music within,
Allow me to feed on their madness,
a stimulation of elation,
By Jacque Ndinda see more of her works here