*My friend dared me to write and post this…here goes*
A poem about “self care”
Late at night, or in the shower,
Or on the sofa with a glass of wine,
I like to touch my special flower;
I call it my own self-care time.
I touch my thighs and stroke my mound,
Dip my calyx for the clear secretion.
I try not to make a single sound,
But always squeal upon completion.
But however often my thighs diverge,
And I send down caressing fingers
To tame my burning lustful urge –
My need to climax always lingers.