Who

They’ve all searched me
Dug deep into the crevices of my hidden parts
Those sacred parts that bleed
The droplets of blood shed in the wake of their search
Serve as reminders that they were once there
But are there no more
Like nomadic explorers they come…
But don’t linger past their point of pleasure
They probe deep within the crevices of my hidden parts
Then leave me wide open
Open and longing
Open and waiting
Open and wondering who will come and probe… And stay? ….Wanting more?
But no one does
No one wants to share a laugh with me
My emotions they don’t wish to see
I must stand still and be probed quietly
Or if I do make a sound it must only be moans of pleasure…never pain
Never the pain of feeling used
Never the pain of being abused
Never the pain of being labelled as “just a booty call” or a “one night stand”
By a man that once held my hand
I must stand still and be probed
My most precious gem left unexplored
Who will come searching and probing and wanting more?
More of my mind?
More of my time?
Who will come and share a laugh and make me smile – reigniting the twinkle in my eyes?
Who will come? …. Without leaving me open

Who will come? …. And stay? …. Without wiping it all away

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