another poem about my pathetic need for sex....
Haikus of Slave and Its Master
A knife slowly runs
across my trembling back; this
is, for me, pure bliss.
Your teeth, eating skin,
dare me to pull away, but
instead, I hold on.
Holding my wrists and
running your tongue on my neck,
I cringe and succumb.
Slamming me against
a brick wall I let you take
me over, my love.
Pounding into me,
you become my captor and
my willful servant;
Doing what I so
desperately want; you know it's
true, my dear, sweet love;
Torturing me is
a battle of the senses
that both of us wage
with timeless relish
and never ending vigor;
we scream and we sigh,
saying I love you
with a scratch and a loud slap;
words aren't enough.
Bruises form on scars
as we look into each others'
eyes, confessing all
of our sins, guilty
pleasures of the blinding flesh
that tempt us always.
Nothing is more real
than the sacred trust between
slave and its master.
A knife slowly runs
across my trembling back; this
is, for me, pure bliss.
Your teeth, eating skin,
dare me to pull away, but
instead, I hold on.
Holding my wrists and
running your tongue on my neck,
I cringe and succumb.
Slamming me against
a brick wall I let you take
me over, my love.
Pounding into me,
you become my captor and
my willful servant;
Doing what I so
desperately want; you know it's
true, my dear, sweet love;
Torturing me is
a battle of the senses
that both of us wage
with timeless relish
and never ending vigor;
we scream and we sigh,
saying I love you
with a scratch and a loud slap;
words aren't enough.
Bruises form on scars
as we look into each others'
eyes, confessing all
of our sins, guilty
pleasures of the blinding flesh
that tempt us always.
Nothing is more real
than the sacred trust between
slave and its master.