my life, poems etc.

On being a slut

My cotton briefs sit by my lacy bra leṭte  

Ink stained fingers wear seductive reds

My hair dishevelled and lobes twice pierced

Legs pour out of the shorts stretched across my derriere

Christian faith nestled in boastful cleavage

My morals looser than my lovers by the sewage

Brought up in elite upscale high rises

 I drive downtown for my sunrises 

The thunder reigning over me

Making your structure a mockery

And yet I am a slut for nothing more

Than all these sins my sisters branded me for

All these luxuries I allowed myself

Cashed out on the moral credit I once held

This generation they call themselves new

Rebels like me the deviant few

Monogamous monotonous daughters and mothers

On your wrinkles the dark age hovers

The feminist you claimed to be

Pigs more understanding than she

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