Mary Dragon Poet Free verse

I Can't Write About S

I can’t write about sex, 

I just can’t. 

My subconscious tells me it makes me promiscuous. 

It identifies promiscuity and sensuality as one in the same. 

Scared of beauty, so it’s being stripped from me, for now. 

How to talk about a part of myself that holds some of the most pain.  

Connection after connection, 

Experience after experience. 

Casual or sometimes epic love. 

Solitude at the end of the cycle.  

Explosions of magic, 

Endless eyes locking. 

Now more painful each time. 

I can’t write about sex. 

I just can’t.  

Why can’t I express this part of myself? 

Is it because it’s the most holy? 

It’s how our children came to light. 

I am so sad to see what the world has become, 

How I became that world and used myself,  

Over and over again. 

Glimpses of universes beaming, 

Hearts on fire with bodies aligned. 

I can’t write about sex. 

Because it’s not a recreational activity.  

To me anyway.  

I can’t write about sex, 

I just can't. 

Because that’s not what it is.

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the barefoot bard June 27, 2026 at 2:01 AM the barefoot bard June 27, 2026 at 2:06 AM Good day Mary Thank you first your deep introspection. Do you think you have been affected by the inputs of the hollywood misportrayal of love.? From reading your poems you no doubt have a deep connection with things natural. Modern existence doesn't promote too much of that. Blessings Douglas