even language is an erogenous zone

and to think i was the one
reaping the conglomerate sighs
for the chastity belt.
i was the little dirty digger scuffing,
pointing crooked pinkie fingers, insisting
my asexual place.

i looked at you in all my disgustful glory,
covering my mouth, believing
you were sickened.

i believed you had been brain-washed
or better yet, redeemed.

and now, here i am, wasting time –

waiting for you just to say something
profound, not necessarily true, to
reel me in. lying around, imagining

conversation, free-versed and
spanning hours, and hours,
and hours

with the stamina of a full-fledged horn,
so lingually amatory.