escapril

obsessions: feast your eyes

we all find new ways to gorge ourselves
on bodies. on vintage wine
on vintage culture
i lift up my skirts to the ankle
the men discover brand new eyes down there
prodding the hem with a questioning motion
may i touch?
yes i say
i crave their sharpened stares on my sacred
every holy place meant to be hidden
the idea of undress
peeling back the epidermis to
reveal a raw pulse
makes my mouth water
and any manner of contact
a gooseflesh inducing nip at the neck
and ghostly kisses on the back
of my victorian hand
persuades shivers from my very core
if i'm careful
and without haste
there will certainly be ways to feel free again
and people willing to provide each fix

O this racing heart
this starved beast
scratching at my breast and whimpering
the only solution now is to disrobe her of any suffocation
anything to satiate
and stopper the pain
we need eyes
we need eyes to feast on us
we need eyes for the love of -
look at me!
i promise
there is so much left to see