Sex Scares Me


Ankur Dang:

Sex scares me,
The warm nakedness
Beneath silky sheets,
Pressed to his hard chest,
Drinking in masculinity,
All the while remembering
The stench of an old memory.

Sex scares me,
As my lips touch his,
And electricity crackles
In my lush breasts.
His hand reaches to caress
a delicious brown nub,
While a flash of something dark
eclipses the moment momentarily.

Sex scares me,
As the moisture gathers
In the folds of my lust’s expression.
I wait for release, for the pain
and the pleasure;
The warmth spreads;
I shudder with the first strong thrust.

Sex scares me,
It’s gone in a breath,
The dry passage lies cold,
Screaming to be left alone.
Lust leaves, desire dims,
The man between my legs
Is no passing shadow.

Sex scares me,
The eerie silence returns,
Muffled screams forgotten,
Images surface of another time,
When My cold, unwilling shell
was invaded and plundered,
With sweet nothings spoken
as if to a lamb for the slaughter.

Sex scares me,
A Physical creature fallen from glory,
Goddess no more, unfeeling and dull.
Cold as ice, frigid to the core,
Protected by a wall made of frozen tears.

Ankur is a multimedia storyteller, a freelance writer, and a staunch feminist based in Syracuse, New York. She believes shame is a social construct. You can read more of her work on her blog-


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