No Wonder

When all you've got are hellified hips,
tits for days and biting wit, it gets hard
to find men who want to fuck and banter.
I've met so many invisibles – those impaled
upon the fence awkward and bloodless,
no wonder the brilliantly brutal mad-men
eventually entertain. Each one on self-destruct.
Like Sade's Juliette, it sickened me to imagine
the plan to fruition. My tongue longs to twirl
around flesh. My teeth desire just a little bite.
My hair, a tug just to make me slightly angry.