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deepundergroundpoetry.com
bondage art
did I say love poems? maybe I don’t know the meaning
of the word in its plainest way, or even that I want to.
I want to do things to you of a ferine intimacy far removed
from love. tie your hands behind you & lock you in a closet
while I go out for cigarettes, maybe a couple beers. you can
kneel in the dark & contemplate the sins I’ll commit upon you.
bind you face down to the corners of the bed, your body naked &
defenseless. pull your hair, slap your weeping face because you
need to be slapped. & your beautiful, quivering ass, targeted for a
brutal spanking. I’ll wail upon your harlot flesh till it glows like neon.
call you a slut, a whore; tell you that fucking’s all you’re good for.
say it to hurt you. how much hurt can you take?
you’re a broken savanna, made of holes, & I will penetrate each one
willfully, without regard to your own beseeching desires, until I blast
my rancid payload into you. or across your ravished body, like a
pearlescent rain.
then I want you to tell me you love the abuse you suffer for me.
I want you to say you love me, knowing I’ll never reciprocate.
would a woman do that for a man?
would you?…
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