A tribute or a response to Edna St. Vincent Millay's “What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why.”
Portrait of a Woman
What men has she slept with, and where, and how;
She’s almost forgotten their names, their faces—
One thing that comes to her memory now
Is the throbbing between her legs, the spaces
That were meant to be filled with thrust in bliss.
She knows loneliness is the scourge of life;
She will tumble and fall into an abyss,
And break down in pieces when she’s in strife.
To keep dejection far from her, she needs
Some arms under her head, some wrapped around
Her bulging body. She wolfishly feeds
On lips, on mouths—always more to be found.
Deep down, she knows sex cannot always nurse
Her soul. Wantonness only makes things worse.
Sonnet by Bibek
Read 78 times
Written on 2018-07-26 at 14:13
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