At Your Service Poem by Lisa Wilson
At Your Service
On the edge of
a water-logged body,
I stew,
lampooned by
lackadaisical lovers who
have no idea what
little pleasure
they bring me,
beyond the racy dollar-store
negligees I try on
temporarily,
giving cranky housewives
a well-deserved chance
to raise babies and bake bread.
Too big for anyone
to care anymore
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4/26/2024 4:55:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Such sadness very evoative and well written ]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]: O)