Agape - Trypophilia

Note: I decided to go for something surreal, kinky and just a little horrible here. If you suffer* from trypophobia or are easily disgusted, please read the title as a WARNING!

I have no lovers. I am feared.
I am too naked for the brave.
They ask for skin, but think it weird
to plumb the skinscape of my cave.

They dread those holes within my hole,
the branching tunnels where they plunge.
No inch of me from scalp to sole
that isn’t riddled like a sponge.

“Don’t peer too closely at her flesh.
There’s nothing solid to her form,
just twisted ducts that link and mesh
like hideouts for an evil swarm.

Her smiling pussy tells a lie:
for when you reach inside the elf
from every nook come wasp and fly
to eat you hollow as herself.”

But just as I leave others scarred,
they leave me sad by what they lack.
No simple shaft, though long and hard,
can fill the lairs beyond my crack.

And so, as no-one dares explore
what wonders lie beneath my lips,
I’ll dream alone for evermore
that branching roots invade my hips.

***

I wake fo find my hungry snatch
encumbered by your cumber-batch,
which, lured by sleepy gravity,
slid cavity to cavity.

I feel your many-headed worm,
your busy tendrils split and squirm,
crawl ever deeper through my limbs
until, as last, my body brims.

(*if, on the other hand, you have trypophobia but enjoy it, things may turn out otherwise.)