Alex Shenstone

Manhood in my Clitoris

Exquisite orgasm.

Spread outwards.

I beg you make me shake.

I drew you out for long enough.

Building that ache,

with such a bullet.

Stop-start. Stop-start. Stop-start.

I scream no name.

I am performing not.

I gasp and laugh in saintly sweat,

for I am my lover.

I need you not, for I have

faux fur to cup my cheek

as I lie back, and think of

just how pleasurable it is,

to know I can bring myself to this.

Such agency over myself

is something to which I am

unaccustomed,

with this body.

I have a clitoris between my legs

and a manhood in my head,

for I am a man.

Sometimes I fear this body.

But I can touch myself – such a

comfort was unknown to me.

For so long.

But now I have it.

I have something of my body that comforts me.

It clears my mind –

leading me to know unencumbered

that in time, with my agency,

the rest of my body shall be formed,

into such comfort.