Poetess!, Poetess!, Wherefore art thou
Poetess!? My mind is barren of your
non-virgin words, spoken so softly like
a whisper past my crowned treasure.
I need for your scribes to seduce
my yearning for a mental climax,
til I have learned them through and
through, til they sound like pleasure.
Unrobe my thoughts galore before
you and overtake my throne, wondering
around it before taking a seat at my
flesh, and without measure you’ll feel.
You’ll feel at home with me, robed to
be a Queen taking my lead to make
poetry so powerful and sound the gods
will lick their lips and kneel.
—JG

