the coming of spring
its smell
its rush
brings sexual energy
no longer a genderless being
i am a girl now
at the mercy of my urges
urges which remind me how imperfect i am
how difficult it would be for me
to bare it all for a momentary fling
my fantasies evoke desires
that reality easily extinguish
my mind has been poisoned
by the predisposition of sexy
what does that mean
i dont feel fat until spring
maybe its a blessing
this inability to give over to the iconography of sex
(it's the one thing i miss about getting inebriated)
forcing real connection
waiting for it
into the depths of celibacy
knowing that when it comes
so will i
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