Member-only story
An Ode to Pubic Hair
To depilate, or not to depilate, that is the question
Pubic hair, oh pubic hair,
You’re not just restricted to my underwear.
All this fluff, when I’m in the buff,
Sporting a lovely 70’s disco muff.
Wax on, wax off, hair ripped away,
But invariably the wax will stay,
And once it sealed my bits so together so tight,
They had to cut me open.
Pubic hair, oh pubic hair,
You get absolutely everywhere.
In my throat, all over the floor,
But when I remove you, it seems I grow more.
There’s body-shaming whatever your style,
I’m somewhere in between, not much but not a child.
But I’d love not to have to worry,
About whether or not my bush was too furry.
And now for the annoying part that ‘starving artists’ have to do.
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