A whore is pointed at 

Not because she sells herself, but

Because she sells herself for 

Far less than she is worth 

Not because she lets a strange man

Paw her breasts for money 

Sweat on her face, grunts between her thighs 

She’s not bad because she’s ‘easy’

We all have prices 

We all have sold ourselves in

Different ways

At different rates 

Some more than others 

But we all get paid eventually

A different wage 

And sometimes

You have to whore yourself

For a lesson learned that 

Will not be forgotten

Can not be denied 

You lie naked on the floor

Next to a man you thought 

you knew like your own skin

And you realize 

That if the price you paid

Was respect lost, then

That price was altogether too high 


Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. 




Teach me
how to read
Your wordlessness

The meanings in your silences
I have surrendered
And nothing less

Touch me again
so rough
So wet
Let me disarticulate again
In the sweet fragrance
Of your sweat
So hard
Your arms
Iron bands
Around my chest
Obliterating me
Punishing me for
Every time
I’ve confessed
My love
To you
Let me hear it too
I am not wordless
Like you

And you pull my hair back
And whisper softly in my ear


© CM