Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Bedtime stories

Tell me a story.
Tell me that you've read my words and hunger for my ass.
My nipples fill your nights.
Tell me how you'd ravish me if only I were flesh and real
and not some e-mail fantasy
for lonely horny men.

Tell me a story.
Tell me you're a woman who can make me kneel and cry.
Teach me how to serve.
Tell me how you'd train me as a slave to female power and
release me from my passion for
those lonely horny men.

Tell me a story.
Tell me that you miss my wake-up murmur in your ear.
My sorrow fills the night.
Tell me that you miss my laugh and moans and talk of politics
and tell me that you want me
and that I am yours again.

Tell me that story.
True or not, I need a fairy tale to soothe the pain.
You're all I want.


Paul said...

Oatmeal Girl, I am a man, not lonely or horny.
I read you because even when you are sad, your words are beauty.
And this I treasure, thank you.
Warm hugs,

Anonymous said...

I offer you many *hugs*. Hang in there. The sunshine will be out again!

xoxoxo mina

oatmeal girl said...

oh paul, i know that about you. i'm not sneering at ALL men... (and thank you for the compliment.)

mina, i love hugs. maybe it's because they are both physical contact and confinement, but they are very comforting and reassuring and steadying.