Spent she drops back on the bed,
the life she lives spinning in her head.
With pleasure she entwines,
while love is hidden for her to find.
Women have their needs, they say,
why be ashamed of it, anyway?
ashamed she is not,
but left wanting more
the need for that connection burning hot.
She wants to look into a lover's eyes.
see that flicker of feral desire,
feel that beat of the heart that quickens,
feel that hum of lightning as more than just their bodies fit perfectly.
She wants to float to the clouds,
not just with physical prowess,
but with a look, a word
her name whispered softly against her ear as true love pulls her near.
Maybe some would call her a whore,
but what she does, she does for more,
just for the dream that one man,
the right man, will find his way to her bed.
She cries for what she does,
she won't look in the mirror,
still she continues,
because she bleeds for love.
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