Quiet Time




With a heavy sigh, I stride into the room.

A soft light, cold ground, gentle

Scent of perfume.

On a white chair, I take my rest,

Thinking on who I am,

Breaths moving my chest.

The slow murmur of exertion

Escapes my throat;

Hands together, head down, just letting my thoughts


Perspiration dances on my brow,

A little more force, a bit

More strength.

To have enough force to go

The full length.

Murmurs grow to groans,

Groans to yells,

Breath filling my chest as

My stomach swells.

Finally, the deed is done,

With a sigh of relief, I relieve myself

Of the burden I have, and

Believe myself.

Face flushed, I flush

The cold bowl.

Breathing in peace, satisfaction made full.

I wash myself, cleansed of all waste;

Breathing is

Easy now, no strain on my waist.

Hands dry, I leave

The silent room,

Now a desolate place.


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