Milky waters crawl down my fingers
As I discover layer after layer
Of flesh
Of tightness
Of beauty

My garden wets as I gaze
at her delicately sculptured folds
Her fruit bursts with juices and flavor
I snake lower charmed by her feminine aroma
Lips plant kisses on petals
Beautiful black petals, pink on the inside

I mouth O’s
I inhale
the warm and cold contrast
Jerks her body in shivers
Walls contract
Juice oozes
My tongue tastes

I flick and suckle
I pause and she spasms
Breath coming in short gasps
She yields to my gentle thrusts
Morns to my twirling tongue
I trace the beginnings and the ends of her slit
And right at the end I find an escape

The queen is a rebel
A confident brat
Reeking of self knowledge
Not afraid to be herself

The will
The free will
Utter disregard
To propriety and perception
Complete freedom
Complete stubbornness
The rejection of ‘correctness’

She is a revolution
Storming down walls of convention
The rumble of the crumbling barriers
Thunders in my chest
beckoning…
beckoning…
beckoning…

Revolution beckons
But I cannot riot
I am tied to conventional wisdom
I can’t abandon all reason

So I can watch her
But only watch

I watch at the Rebel Queen
And I recognize myself in her
And I want to belong

But when I wake up
To a world without walls
The Self shrivels, afraid

The will
The zeal
To be wild
I do not possess
I am powerless
I am
An impotent rapist

Why are we afraid of them?
The wild ones
The non conformists?

It is a stupid fear
Premised on a misconception
That to conform
Is to be good
Is to be cultured
Is to be peaceful

So we create peace for those around us
And give way to a tumultuous rage within
A rage at consistently confining the Self
Cuffing her hands and her legs
Forbidding her to leap

So I watch her
Rebel Queen
And I recognize myself in her
In Rebel Queens
Self finds an escape

***

Link to the Italian translation