What Does It Take

"And finally,"
she said,
having eventually
gotten up the courage
to tell it like it is,
"this is how it is for me,"

and she launched
into a stream
of consciousness
that didn't end
with overt moves

that pin the body
to the wall,
holds that counter moved
and arrested the air,
the breath
of life itself,

and then
down some slightly
meandering twist
into a silken set
of cuffs
that drained the will
and handle holding held indefinitely,

and there she writhed
in circumspective conflagrations
of willful restraint
and cooling wrangled doubt
to fall at last
into a swooning heat,

a swelter of sorts
that engaged both
the blood and emotions
of her yearning:
a few trembling gestures
with her arms,

a dense snag
of foot kicks,
a bosh
of kipling swipes,
and then,

defaulting,
she climaxed
in a heap  
amongst a joy
of altercating affectations,

both giving
and running rampant
in her demands,
that she might not
be perceived
as having had
the best of her
emancipated
from her will.

runningturtle87