“Squirm” is one of the most unerotic
words we have. It’s sweaty, but not sweat-fuck

sweat. It speaks of discipline, but not slick
ash cane strokes on up-turned ass, each lilac

kiss-bloom causing you to gasp. The only
thing I can think of that might make squirm sound

naughty involves callused fingers, puffy
lips, tracing the curve of your venus mound,

curling, parting, finding home. It involves
knuckles, first one, then, pushing, a fat second.

Children squirm when touched, as will you. Eyes shut,
with: yes … right … there … Oh … God. What will dissolve

in bliss if rubbed? What’ll leave you dazed, dampened,
gasping, thighs shaking, clit in a riot?