Tags
erotic poetry, how bliss freed us, keys to the soul, know, orgasms as a metaphor for religious prayer, poem, sonnet, to thy own self be true
This world is full of lost daughters, vanished
daddies, misplaced parents who never learned
love right. Some of us got praised, some punished,
when we followed our hearts. What our hearts burned
for was not shameful. Others disagreed,
they could not see how orgasms were keys
to our soul, how bliss freed us, how our need
to cum was also a divine gift. “Sleaze,”
they called it. “Sin.” True, passions can corrupt,
but so can hearts and daughters and daddies.
I’m proud of you. The struggle is real. So
is your faith. Be true, dear heart, and worship
to make your soul glow. Not with sin nor sleaze,
but with praise in ways only you will know.