Woe-Man With Passion Poem by Monkgogi 'Rhetoric' Moshaga

I have a mind besides yours, I too deserve to imagine.
In my fantasies we feast and sport our passion,
Passion that matches the fire in my soul,
Passion that feeds my disguised hunger.
Disguised for society, disguised to escape me from scolds.
I have wants, I have needs. I yearn too and sex is my lust resort.
Do not deny me any love, allow me, let me.
Let me bask in your amaze and bathe you in my loving.
It is mine and yours but none for the masses, now, later, every second that passes.
When you suck my blood to surface and brand me your love and label me done.
If I told you how I feel if I leaked you what I intend with you.
How am I wrong to confess, how am I wrong to be human?
When will it be right for me to be woman not that I must woe men?
Let me. For long your eyes glared and for long I gave you a hard time.
Now I submit to you. At the mercy of my love you must bathe.