this longing for your skin
The touch that will make me spread open
Wider than the oceans
I crave your raw passion
The kind that destabilizes your breaths
Keeps you strong
Keeps the fire, the lust
My mind, my skin
Call for the initial
Where strange fingertips and soft lips
Where our love making is political
Bringing down these systems of oppression that hold us hostage
That because we are womyn, womyn of color
our bodies are not meant to fit each other.
But that’s a lie
Because the many times that I’ve laid
Wet, vulnerable, and inviting
My orgasms were a product of our decolonizing.
As our breaths increase
So does our movement
And as I move deeper and deeper inside of you
I find where the truth is.