Every Inch

Every curve, every inch of flesh is a gift
He should know that
He should know that when he pulls your shirt over your head
That you are giving him a piece of you that’s sacred.
But when you’re left there
Throbbing
Aching
Wanting
And he wipes you clean
Of his pleasure
But not yours
You realize
That men still haven’t learned
They haven’t learned that your pleasure
Is equally as valuable as theirs.
You don’t have to be his teacher
You don’t have to hold his hand
But you do have to tell him
Write the letter
Sit him down
Walk out the door
Or send him packing
But tell him
Because you know the gift that is a woman’s body
and you know there will be women after you