Reserved Poem by Zyw Zywa
Reserved
I want his face
nicely towards me
I don't want to tear it open
because he chooses
me this weekend
I want his stubble
his fabric softener
he is so different
from the men of my friends
with their itchy sperm
I want his words
his withheld love
reserved
for me under clothes
of inaccessibility
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
For Sheree Paridon #1 --- Collection 'Without reserve'
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11/4/2026 4:33:13 PM # rel_20261026T125300Z_a7741e1
