The Dancer’s Mistress


I feel loose.
My body is trembling.
The heat is volcanic.
Nipples hard as a rock.
Legs clinched as though a fist.

Why do I leak.
Why do I yearn.
Why do I suffer.
Why can’t I breath.
Don’t take away my food.
Don’t you waste my juice.

My thighs are wet.
My mouth is dry.
My neck is without life.
My hands are empty.
They are screaming for your name
Crying for your touch.

My hands, should I cuff them.
My neck, should I tie it with your red belt.
My legs, should I wear them in a fishnet.
My breast, should I tape them in wait.
Should I surrender even in your absence.

The days are passing.
The journey seems long.
Washing and waiting in vain.
Will you not give me what is mine.
Will you not grab me under my silk sheet.
I am here, loving you under there.


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Categories: poetry

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