I’ll walk around with my hair down.
Feel the silky ends resting across my shoulders, and down my back.
My breasts pulling towards the earth.
Nipples ache to feel the sweet milk pooling,
then dripping, and wetting,
and feeding, and nurturing.
Nipples ache to feel something at all;
warm saliva caressing the pinched and crinkled skin
as they become alert to the sensations
pulling them out.
Substitutions for needs unfulfilled
do not satisfy me at present.
I can’t wiggle my fingers, and press my palm
into my pearl, not tonight.
I want to rest my head against a heart,
and feel my satisfaction shared,
and so drift into a dream.