Best Famous Masturbate Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Masturbate poems. This is a select list of the best famous Masturbate poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Masturbate poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of masturbate poems.
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Written by
Nikki Giovanni |
Life Cyclesshe realized she wasn't one of life's winners when she wasn't sure life to her was some dark dirty secret that like some unwanted child too late for an abortion was to be borne alone she had so many private habits she would masturbate sometimes she always picked her nose when upset she liked to sit with silence in the dark sadness is not an unusual state for the black woman or writers she took to sneaking drinks a habit which displeased her both for its effects and taste yet eventually sleep would wrestle her in triumph onto the bed
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Written by
Marge Piercy |
She wore little teeth of pearls around her neck.
They were grinning politely and evenly at me.
Unsuitable they smirked. It is true
I look a stuffed turkey in a suit. Breasts
too big for the silhouette. She knew
at once that we had sex, lots of it
as if I had strolled into her diningroom
in a dirty negligee smelling gamy
smelling fishy and sporting a strawberry
on my neck. I could never charm
the mothers, although the fathers ogled
me. I was exactly what mothers had warned
their sons against. I was quicksand
I was trouble in the afternoon. I was
the alley cat you don't bring home.
I was the dirty book you don't leave out
for your mother to see. I was the center-
fold you masturbate with then discard.
Where I came from, the nights I had wandered
and survived, scared them, and where
I would go they never imagined.
Ah, what you wanted for your sons
were little ladies hatched from the eggs
of pearls like pink and silver lizards
cool, well behaved and impervious
to desire and weather alike. Mostly
that's who they married and left.
Oh, mamas, I would have been your friend.
I would have cooked for you and held you.
I might have rattled the windows
of your sorry marriages, but I would
have loved you better than you know
how to love yourselves, bitter sisters.
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