-He doesn't want me
pacing around the halls
or sitting in his favorite chair --
just tells me I'm gorgeous
and refuses to fuck me.

I sit with a daffodil behind my ear
spreading my legs and tying my hands
behind my back
daring him to look in someone else's eyes

-But he can't speak to me
when I'm like this, he says.
With teeth bared and skirt hiked way up,
Take me, but I won't surrender.

-I know you
just wouldn't have it another way.

He's bending me over backwards
until my nails are digging into mud,
he licks the sweat from my neck
and pulls the rope tighter

My heart feels like an insect
that just got caught in a spider's web.

-He teaches me to waltz on my knees,
to ask with my eyes and smile
when the gravel sinks into my palms.

-Tomorrow I'll still be on my back
wondering when he'll come
at me with his practiced pain.

But the game isn't one he plays well
and I am the teacher.
He finds a drop of blood between my breasts,
he finds himself rethinking his position.

-I whisper encouraging words into his neck
when he grabs my hips and frames me to the wall,
a blushing canvas.
Somehow he knows the language
as it's born from my throat.

Ticking time-bomb between my legs,
deepening lust to be ripped to shreds
and I don't want to play any other hands
against a dealer who will always
call my bluff.

-Enough of this power struggle
and house of cards
and I will show you what a tiger on a lead is like.

10/19/2011

Author's Note: Hell hath no fury...

Posted on 10/19/2011
Copyright © 2024 Meghan Helmich