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art

(form)

By Sara Published 2 years ago 1 min read
art
Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash

people get mad

at me

cuz i call sex

art.

and cuz i talk about it

and write about it.

i don’t care.

because when a body

is tangled in mine

it is more than just

the animalistic hunger

in me

that is satiated.

all day

i fight the world

but when there are hands

holding me down

i can let the world

take over

and rock to its

rythm.

all night i feel

hollow

because my wild eyes

never shut

searching

for something i will never

find

but when my ears

hear another heartbeat

i can slowly

drift to sleep

and dream.

tell me it’s not art.

i’ll hold you

til you see it.

love poems

About the Creator

Sara

Don’t look for love.

Be love.

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Comments (1)

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  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarran2 years ago

    Oh wow, I never saw sex as art. This is a very different perspective. Loved your poem!

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