Dark, warm, murky cunt.

Entering there

the rewards are great.

You can forget your hard edges

in my vagina’s stretchy softness.

You can forget the sparring

with other hard brains and bodies and

just burrow your face in the

enveloping lenience

of fragrant flesh,

in wetness and salt.

I am the Great Mother Ocean.

This is the only way I really have

to relate to you,

to your obsession and desire

to plunge into me

and be buried in salty slippery

wetness.

It is unfortunate

that you find

this intoxicating place

in my very own body and being

because

if I am to make you happiest,

I need to open up my

very own body and being

to be that very large ocean

for you.

Problem is,

I am also the childlike creature

who you do not trust to drive the car safely or

be careful with money but

when I conjure up my alter ego

Great Mother Ocean

I suddenly embody a power so great

that you can only begin

to enter or touch it

before you are spent,

just as my waves are beginning

to crest.

What a curse to be

this Great Mother Ocean.

What a delightful curse.

Your blind and forceful need

makes me want

to guard my creative potential.

Sometimes,

I want to be the ocean.

Sometimes,

I want

the ocean.

Or perhaps a servant,

or a worshipper

to rub my feet and oil my back

with no requirement

that I become the ocean

again anytime soon.