A Taste Of Satisfaction

I used to love the way your art presented the photo of my imagery,
The way my head fell to safety against your chest and your fingers traced the curls along my neck.
I gave myself to you in a moment without your knowledge, speaking to you under florescent stars and Smokey haze.
The ease was unfamiliar and to my liking and I found my safety wrapped tightly in your arms listening to your sweet nothings whispering me breathless and hungrily to gather my limbs with your own.
Something in you touched the flame in my desire, and I watered in pleading for your hand ringing my delicate neck.
I told myself limits were but a barrier that wasn't needed, my body but a temple full of secrets your mouth could explore, leaving every inch of my flesh hot, raw, bruised and satisfied.
Even as screams muffled in my throat, your dirty words fed my appetite wanting you even more.
It used to be that the more you filling me burned, the more My body ached and muscles buckled, the more I begged for my limits to be tested.
I loved the evil in your deadly stare, the way you pulled my head back to thrust deeper in my ruins.
You ruined me, gave me a taste of pleasures bound and open,
Pain I attempted replaying to no avail....
You left me in the only satisfaction I'd ever know, soaked and battered....
Bruises scar my insatiable thirst, always wanting what isn't readily available...
How long until you feed the beast you created?
Or am I destined to never know satisfaction again.