After three months of waiting and dreaming
For a booking at hotel NHS
I finally hear the words I’ve been longing for
‘Alice, the Doctor will see you now’
“My name’s Dr Tate
But you can call me Andrew
Drop your pants and spread your legs”
And I must surrender to his demands
Take him on the journey of my insides
To my left you’ll find a scarp of wool from the last tampon I shoved up too hard
On your right you’ll find a UTI brewing I’ll ignore for weeks until I get my dizzy spells
And dead ahead…
Are the scars I can’t talk about
And he’s swinging his speculum
Like he has something to prove
And I’m tensing my legs
Like I have something to hide
And I want so badly to shut him out
But HE is everywhere
On the screens on the street in my mind
But if I let him deep inside
Touch the sacred marks that lie dead ahead
Well maybe that
Will be enough to bring a man to his knees.
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