Ambivalence

Her longing is immense.
Awe-inspiring.
The tension stretches,
taut as a bow,
Deep. Straining. Needing.
Unbearable proportions.

Vast distance,
unfathomable, really.
Hopeless miles loom
between them,
yet his hold is undeniable.
Unexplainable.

He beckons. Soft. Demanding.
Her response is swift.
Joy exploding like stars
from the sheer delight
of his touch.
Words soothing, biting.

Unwilling, yet certain,
she is his prisoner.
Despairing.
Helpless.
Resentful.
Unable to resist him.

His passion coaxes her.
Riveting. Electric.
Teeth clenched,
she remembers
his hands wandering
knowingly across her flesh.

Gazing at the moon,
she swallows hard,
loving him, hating him.
Pain unmeasurable,
pleasure indescribable,
beyond comprehension.


Attempting to run,
she trips over her need for him,
and crumples at his feet.
He tugs at the bond
and she groans.
Bastard.


Her desire for him
violent and confusing.
Breathing hard,
shuddering,
private evidence
of a secret lust.


The bond grows,
she struggles,
resistance a token gesture.
Laughable.
Amusement offered at his throne.
Deplorable male ego.


Daily routines console
but nights own her.
pillow tears,
haunting images,
wanton clutches,
starving kisses.

Impatient.
Angry.
Frustrated.
She waits
for the next time
he will take her.


She is bound.