Katherine

A woman needs to feel the heavy pulse
of steel, the throb of bullets in a gun.
Protection always fails in fucking, bolts
come loosened under years of jerks. I've done
my time in psych wards slowly coming clean;
I've washed away the blood I drew in search
of happiness - some fake suburban dream.
I need a touch as soft as rain, I thirst
for pools of curves, a landscape fresh that flows
from my hip bone to hers. I lap such lakes!
While men don't knock, they enter even though
the door is closed, my woman knows to wait,
her fingers circling the lock. My skin,
these walls of longing, part to let her in.