Unbidden, no bounds
Even lazy she stretches out of control
Flashes her claws reflexively
You spoke to him too long
The brain pulses
A wave of red rushes past
Quick as a stalkers shadow
You let her touch your arm
A casual gesture
Is lost to this predator
The one who lurks behind every corner
Observes long before striking
The jealous lover
Is natures only wild animal
Not poached to near the brink
Instead they move silently
Bristling at your presence.
– Little Ginge x
I don’t cross my legs
And I rarely wear lacies
I like to chug from the kegs
Don’t buy hats for the races
I’m not a lady
I’m just a person
With two medium sized breasts
Between my legs, a twat
If these two criteria’s
Change your perception
Get down on your knees
And beg for redemption
A woman is a woman
Simply for medical interference
A lady is a lady
To serve a societal presumption
Others never wear skirts
And won’t touch a dress
But they’ll put up your shelves
And build you a nice desk
Some females just don’t fit
In any stereotypical definition
But if you still wish to touch
You’ll need her permission.
– Little Ginge x
Ascend in height
Towards translucent sky
Arching up above like a bow
Tying everything neatly together
You prepare to strike
Your pale fingers reaching
To feel a long lost one
Embrace their cold touch
Death becomes you dear
Engulfing you like flames
Warm; akin to a hug
Consuming you gently
Until the eyes flutter open
The madness melting away
Another breath taken
The darkness stolen by day.
– Little Ginge x
Gingers Appellations 