The fetish object
He told me that he liked me for my lips.
I didn’t know then he liked only my lips
Nor did I know that he would not indulge
In any act other than kissing lips.
What I found erotic turned repugnance.
What I pandered turned to be an ordeal.
He not handling but my lips in bed,
I soon cringed at his approach itself.
My lips have become to him a fetish object.
I regret having got married to him.
The want of spontaneity and variety
Have put me in cold storage,
My lips being sore and body burning.
09.11.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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