Sex Keeper

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It can be exhausting

the way men look at me,

like they’re waiting for a ceremony

of me to fall at their feet

and accept their kinky fantasies


Some tilt their head forward,

peak over their frames,

and their pupils roll to my breasts

then down to my waist


Some don’t even look in my face,

they go straight for my womb place

and strip me naked then request

for me to open my legs

with their aura, that usually stinks


Some keep their head high

and focused on my crown,

some don’t even smile

they just say, “Hey baby,”

as if we have the same DNA


If conversation is had

it quickly goes astray

when I tell them,

“Nigga, I am your daughters age.”


A shame that it’s what I have to say

and it’s never my peers

who make me feel this way,

these men are older

mostly grey


Mostly established

in steady jobs and homes

where they want to

take me away


I wonder,

how many have been married

how many have a baby on the way

how many have std’s

or how many would ask me to shave


My armpits,

my womb place,

my legs,

I wonder who’d want me to change


It can be exhausting,

having men look at me this way

especially when they don’t even know

that they are drawn

to my Mother, Goddess energy