Woman Made

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I lie back on flannel
sheets, body soaked
with sweat and tears,
feeling you shifting and
turning between blood
stained thighs.

Your mouth covers mine,
tongue ring teasing tender
taste buds, swelled with the
expectation of sweetness
and love.

You arch above
my submissive form,
keening cry as you pour
into my unprotected womb.

I smile, at peace, no
longer a trembling girl-child,
but a woman made.

I reach between slicked
curls, touching our sex.

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