He’s Not into Feet—except where Mine have Taken Me. {Poem}

Via Brooklynn Bosworth 

I want to suck on your big toe…

He says,

Over his omelet,

So casually.

How interesting, as my feet are far from properly clean.

But, they are strong.

They carry me inside my take-no-sh*t lifestyle.

They see me to my accomplishments,

And he knows it.

So when he licks my ankles while we make love,

It’s not because he’s into feet—

But he’s into where they’ve taken me.

This man has got the hots for my accomplishments,

And what a turn on that is for me—to feel validated.

Appreciated.

Seen.

In cultures across nations and time,

Washing feet is the highest form of respect,

And

He’s tended to my dirty paws since the first time we met.

Massaging them, soaping them up in the shower,

Even between my toes.

And he pays keen attention to my grounding extremeties

In the thick of passion, a new kind of love.

It’s exciting

And certainly not gross.

Beautiful in ways I never thought of

Whenever my mind traveled to feet.

Foot stuff,

I think to myself when we part for good.

What an interestingly sensual lesson to partake in.

What a way to learn that being taken care of inside sexuality

Can mean many things,

Many acts.

And some will be sexual,

But some will be emotional.

And most will be symbolic of a journey so much greater than the act alone.

Because in full truth: I have never felt more cared for

Than when this man

Loved up on my feet.

~