Hanky Panky?

He told the other one as I passed by, “No hanky panky, today.”

As if I would have had no say?

Pretty sure it wasn’t up to him or them?

Pretty fucking sure the choice was always mine.

Pretty damn sure I can say yes or no.

Pretty goddamned sure.

Let me just reiterate,

this body is my state.

This mind is my country,

and my willingness or unwillingness is my fucking religion.

It has nothing to do with you.

Nothing to do with what you want.

Nothing to do with your time of day.

It all hinges on me.

Whether I swing left or right,

I wink or fight,

I say hello or suck a dick.

I’m selfish that way.

I’m protecting or flaunting me.

I do it to please me.

And if it pleases you?

That’s a bonus.

For your day, to enjoy as I pass by.

Swinging hair and hips and smiling lips.

That’s all me and my happiness and courage and boldness.

That’s my confidence in me.

That’s the way I hold myself, confident in my right to take my pleasure.

Any damn way I please.

And I will pass by with ease,

knowing the Hanky Panky,

Is mine to indulge, divulge, distinguish, or tease.



Author: doing2016

I started writing when I was very young. Then I was mortified on a bus full of people when one of my stories was read aloud. I lost my focus and quit. Now, I'm trying to find my voice and my ambition. I love to write, good or bad. So, I'm doing it here and now. Thank you.

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