He touches, every bit
Even the ones I …
Published in
Aug 16, 2021
He touches, every bit
Even the ones I …
Don’t like.
My hurt back, my tiny tits,
The stretch marks that run along my thighs.
Hide away.
My small ass, my pimpled face,
The way my tummy forms mountains from molehills.
Put aside.
My thick hair, my rough skin,
The many scars that have grown up with me.
But He Touches Every Bit.
Craves to part those thighs,
Rub that back and fondle those tits.
Waits to pat that ass,
Hold that tummy and caress that face.
Cares to rub that hair,
Kiss those scars and love that skin
Every single bit
He touches, a poem by Margaret Sitawa
