plum Mistress

yes i do want to be kept in your box
that you would be out and about in clubs
wrangling eyes and lust
playing with hands and fingers and swaying hips
and beneath the table
where palms and middle fingers find their way to moist spots
while eyes above wander aimlessly
trying to keep cloaked
the rivers within

on hardwood floors
your spiked heels make their dents
as they click clack flamenco beats
to artistic DJ grinds
the heat you give off is aromatic
and phonemes lure you to one another
in ways no public is privileged to see

my moans and aches cause spasms and psychotic quakes
as i imagine your fingers mingling
and the distance between now and a hopeful then
when the door might open
and my predicament ended
even if only to be replaced by another

the enduring stasis
the monotony of a vacuum of dreams
wears upon my entire construct
upon flesh
and mind
and the weakness that time induces

i am hidden from life
kept deep in a well of need
awaiting moments of arousal
that you control and keep tuned exactly as you want it
tormenting me into shapes that churn out
pleasures for your eyes, ears, and mind
an exercise of your power and playful will
that you can twist freedom into a braid
taught around by desires
tugging at my strings
tethering in one place then another
leaving me with keyboards and apparatus to write for you
to suffer for you
till finally
when the cool air from outside rushes into through opened door
i struggle in my bonds
and moan feebly through my gag
as four heels appear before me
with curious eyes
and mischievous hands
to unleash your devious mind
and i soar at even the thought of your touch