I long to be naked again,
To feel a lover’s touch upon me.
To moan in experiences of delight.
To no longer pretend and simply indulge in being.
My lover is me.
No one has ever pleased me as much as I do.
No one else has ever touched me.
I long to be touched.
I’m not allowed to be touched.
The cross on my neck forbids it.
I long to take it off.
They won’t let me, though.
I took off my cross.
I let someone fuck me.
They told me I’d regret it, but
I enjoyed it far more than Sunday school.