My Gothy Little Secret

It seems I'm always driving by that hotel, our twisted sanctuary
Unable to take my eyes away, remembering all the lust, the wicked perversion  
 
Hard to believe that it's been over a year since that day
When you wrote your number on my forearm in purple permanent ink
 
My little Goth Girl, sporting black clothes and scary tats
Piercings seen pale so in comparison to those concealed
 
Secret tristes where I become another man, the sadist who hydes behind my proper and gentlemanly façade
Where normal tenderness is stomped and shattered by raw, painful sensuality
 
It's always Room 124, towards the rear, safe from discovery
Convenient for fast getaways breathless back to the vanilla wasteland that is my life
 
Though twice your age you make me feel young and powerful
Crushing your black velvetness beneath my wicked dominance
 
You always bring the toys, harsh and medieval
But funny how I know how to use them, wield them so deftly
 
I leave you more than panting with kinky impressions, proper branding
Handprints, clamp bites, and lashed kisses
 
But I too am left with passionate reminders, your evil souvenirs
Deep scratches out of reach and so far unseen
 
You let me enter Sodom's door, a place she always denies
I make you the center of my universe, making time itself yield to my power
 
Engaged in our dance, our S&M ritual, we meet each other's needs
For you, it's Daddy's nasty affection, for me total sweet submission
 
Beneath me you transform me into a god
Above you I surplant the universe, total erotic eclipse where I spew towards the heavens