Essence
Comfort
No longer seeking escapism
nor distractions from her reality
Celibacy providing her
with 20:20 clarity
No more narcotic type highs,
or satisfied sighs
From casual interactions with informal liaisons
That were often gone in a blink, or two.
No more misplaced excitement
At the chime of her phone
For mischievous connections, by welcome interjections
From sweet talking Black Knights, seeking a shining in the night
Roadmen to articulate, Ballers to illiterate
The majority of them, often surplus to requirement
But they all enjoyed the same fate
As they prolonged their pseudo dates
The fucking and the frolicking,
to the, we-both-know-what’s-not-gwaning,
Non-committal fantasy of it all
No longer comfortable or content with
Being available for rent, minus the pay
That missing Link that could fill a gap for the day,
A night….or when there was no Missus at bay
No longer felt that need to stay, to appease his needs
With her gregarious nature, or eagerness to please
Realisation suddenly came to her
And like a tidal wave, washed over her
Drenching her being, from her soul to her soles,
With the acknowledgement that,
her exploits had finally taken their toil
An admission that they’d simply been empty, yet extremely draining
And in spite of satisfaction and misplaced pride
She relaxed, got open and enjoyed those rides
Expertly extracting juice from others victoriously
Insisted she didn’t posses insecurity or vulnerability
All the while disregarding her own morality
As she too lost juice, her nectar seeping from her pores
Her natural goodness dribbling from her most sacred of doors
And each time, as if swept away with a gust of wind
Leaving another valuable piece of her missing from within
When finally, finally she made the connection
That in juices, there are vital nutrients and vitamins
And ironically, like fruit and nuts, most guys jokingly boasted of E vitamin in their jism
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So why had she never equated the same essence with her being?
Had allowed her juice to be mislaid regularly
Spilling her goodness and her virtuosity
As it dispersed from her body, habitually and abundantly
She convinced herself, that this, this was fun!
Unemotional-unattached-unequivocal-fun
Non-needy-nor-neurotic-feminist-movement-fun
Grown-ass-independent-don’t-need-a-man-fun
Can’t-get-hurt-if-I-don’t-let-my-guard-down-fun!
No ties, no lies, just realness
Openness and willingness
Willingness to sell her soul to the lowest bidder
The singular or to the multiple orgasm giver
One who could play her like a fiddle
Expertly work the middle
With tongue-lashings that began with a simmer
Ultimately, left her body in a quiver
They served their purpose, had their uses
And for the most part, most delivered
But what were they trading and what was at risk?
The level of Clitoral Damage clearly took the piss
Safe sex, the norm, but in the odd slip up or fall
Of misplaced trust, in a lust-fuelled liaison after dusk
She was left worrying, circumstantially fraught
As an STD check-list, rampaged through her thoughts
But enough was enough, so she decided no more!
Tired of covertly being treated like a whore!
She no longer light headed, behaving ignorant or feeling numb
Now knows where this deep rooted pain derives from
The hollow aching, the throbbing, the sobbing from deep within
That churns its way out rhythmically, with a deafening din
Seems to have become her erratic, yet nocturnal lullaby
But when faced with her reflection
She now looks herself squarely in the eye
See, now, now she feels somewhat cleansed
It’s been a painful progression to reach this end
And she’s knows it’s not really the end, but merely the beginning
The beginning of her journey to over-stand, understand
And appreci-love herself
To build the worth of herself
Outside of others eyes
But more so, to what she feels, inside.
(C) 2015 – 2019 Comfort AWA
#Poetry #SpokenWord #EroticPoetry #BlackErotica #Ebony #BlackBritish #Sex #Love #Relationships #Situationships #SexualAgency #FemaleEmpowerment
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