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I wish I could lay down

On this plot of land

And soak up all the subtle shades of green

Into my soul

Use it to somehow clean

My mind of the old deep down longing

For something unattained

And unattended to

Sadly even now

I lay alone and scared 

With thoughts

Ripped bare

Like old underwear

That’s elastic

Has frayed and lost its grip

Drooped and sagging

But endlessly hopefully


Attempting to be useful

Hitched up with a deft hand

Once used on a sweeter, smaller, tighter ass

To flick knickers caught between cheeks

That action watched by men

Who later go off to play

With someone who’s eyelashes will flutter

And who will say sweeter things

Than I could ever manage to mutter


I walked into the field today

Bent low against the grass

Smelt the air and the land

Felt it brush against my hand

The small blades and tiny fronds

Cut marks


Until later as I lay inside

The nip and sting registered in my mind

The hurt brings with it

The sensation of the sunburnt turf against my bare feet

And my skin

Baked hot and tinged pink.

I later recalled

That I wore no underwear that day

Did I just forget to act

Or did I choose to leave myself bare

Because I really did not care?

Or because I thought of a Lovah I once had

Who, if he’d known that fact

Would have been extremely glad.

He’d have reached his hand

As I passed

And squeezed my bare ass

I'd have sighed 

And rubbed myself against his hard thigh

And stored away in my mind

That feeling of his hand

Branding me

Marking me as his 

I know as a feminist

I should not say these things

Yet, such longings 

They exist and 


They're bliss.

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