so sharp was the edge of that flesh,
a deep burgandy stained with fermentation
such rush was the pound in my chest
hesitant, and filled with trepidation.

My eyes upon you I started at your base
a thick, and dense, hefty structure
yet somehow it is formidable as a case
without gash, fall, or subtle rupture

I squint glancing upward to your core
protecting my sight from your bold regality
to such a body, many women have adored,
and so many men have reached their fatality

To such a force I will not look,
my eyes skip a blink to move up faster
Feet cold, hair estatic, fingers shook,
of a pungent, earthy spell, you are the castor.

To fast forward time, I rush to your face
hoping to catch a fleeting mercy in your eye
unbelievable how man has formed you in haste
Not a hint of candid, breath, or shy.

Human kind has, and will never conquer you.
Fleshy, putrid, skeething, and filled with lies!
yet every year, you engage us, your creator, in this battle anew.
you, sticky, you malevolent, you unapologetically evil… pumpkin pie!

Suggested Citation:
Sochat, Vanessa. "Looking In." @vsoch (blog), 04 Nov 2013, (accessed 04 Feb 24).