Ode To A Mute

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Georgia O’Keefe

Ode to a Mute

She is mute,
Yet beautiful nonetheless.
What a pity she cannot speak!
Oh, the tales that she would tell!

She is a spectacular passage
Leading to a stream,
A river,
The mighty ocean,
Gripping you madly in her force,
Engulfing you in her flow.

She is cleverly disguised
By all of her petals, superimposed,
She appears to be fragile
Like a flower,
She is not so fragile really.
She is by no means a minimalist.
Some may find her to be overdressed, gaudy,
Too many trinkets,
No smooth lines,
Yet each bit and scrap of her counts,
Essential to her function
And breathtaking in her possibilities.

She is mute,
Yet seemingly frivolous,
A versatile clutch
Adorned with a
Mysterious pearly button
So delightful to touch
That some women never dare
To do so.

A silent opening
Yet so communicative,
Without a tongue,
Lacking teeth,
She can express a lifetime of desire
Through convulsive movements.
Twitch.
Surge.
Flex.
Relax.

She is a humid corner,
Often wet,
But she smells of the earth,
Not of the sea.
She is amazingly strong,
Resilient,
Yet she yields and melts
Under closer scrutiny.

Sometimes she is uniquely mine.
I take special care of her.

She is mute,
Yet beautiful.

4 comments

    • pivoine68

      Cooool! The day I can write, “pussy,” I can take it up a notch! Lol! I have a very limited sex blogger vocabulary, but I’m trying.

      Happy New Year G!

      Bis Bisous,
      Dawn

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