by Kate Green

I keep sticking
my fingers in my mouth
swirling around
the black current
that I'm suckling
I see a strange mix
of lust and disgust
color your face
you don't like hearing
how I stay wet
all night through
even though it sends
a message to your prick
that responds
when I say
I'm a marathon rider
you can fixate
on strippers and whores
but can't take a woman
who hustles her shuffle
the way I do
I hate men like you
holding onto
a dying double standard
that to be sexual
is to have no respect
to allow any man
to penetrate
you want to fuck
the midnight whore
but go home to
your plain-faced virgin
I am neither
and it doesn't compute
shades of gray
have no standing
in your black and white world
I hope you can hear
every detail over the roar
describing my sex
and how I so love it
hear when a woman
can talk fuck
better than any man
About Kate Green:
Kate Green is a female poet residing in South Philadelphia

Other poems by Kate Green: Hunted & The Dresser
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