A Darker Love.

Nights unsatisfied,

moans disappear as does

the sighing moon,

full, but unshaken.

The light is too bright,

and all is seen.

Nights of slow fucks,

tender words,

and perfect

Lifetime Movie Network moments.

Some of us are darker,

and need the new moon’s mystery;

need to feel the teeth through skin,

need to feel burning on ass, on cock,

from you.

Need to feel the cruelty unimagined,

the aggressor and his hands.

Need to feel him

degrade me,

punish, arouse, and ensnare me.

“You’re my whore, my little cock-rabbit.

Just my juicy piece of ass, isn’t that right,

slut?”

Echoes drone, ripple in well of psyche,

pierce, penetrate, spellbound.

The dark chant of his words elevate me

as does rhythmic slap,

slap, slap, slapping

of skin on his;

of hands meeting ass again and again.

“Yes, sir. Yes, Sir! Yes SIR!”

Screams and moans resound,

sweat and love make physical actions

as he coos to me of my hard work,

then caws at me commands.

Trance, filled with the best way

I know how to love;

with trust, with pain

–by giving him me,

at my most raw; primal and honest.