deepundergroundpoetry.com
her crotch
Her lithesome thighs
bring out my sighs
because of the convergence
at the top of them
into a cleft
that’s called
the honey pot,
the very thing
that makes all men
from Adam on
bereft of sense
and so inclined,
impelled, constrained
to bury their desire
in it
up to the hilt
and say aloud,
assuming this
was something made,
and gifted from, above
for pleasure
and at times for love,
“What hath God wrought?”.
bring out my sighs
because of the convergence
at the top of them
into a cleft
that’s called
the honey pot,
the very thing
that makes all men
from Adam on
bereft of sense
and so inclined,
impelled, constrained
to bury their desire
in it
up to the hilt
and say aloud,
assuming this
was something made,
and gifted from, above
for pleasure
and at times for love,
“What hath God wrought?”.
Published 4th Jul 2021
Author's Note
The inspiration for this is J-Z's poorly written and logically impaired piece on the effect of a woman's vagina.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
5th Jul 2021 6:03am
Favourite sequence of lines:
the very thing
that makes all men
from Adam on
bereft of sense
and so inclined,
impelled, constrained
to bury their desire
in it
up to the hilt
the very thing
that makes all men
from Adam on
bereft of sense
and so inclined,
impelled, constrained
to bury their desire
in it
up to the hilt
