- Non-Erotic Poetry
- For Love of Music and Fire
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The music began. The strings entered first.. and then silent..the lifting... his voice rises.... nessun dorma... and his voice, Pavarotti's fills the hall... my Sir, then, bade me listen.
His fingers slid across my bare skin, perfectly choreographed to the strains that had raised the passion in me... as the music was painted on my skin, so was his will, imprinted across my soul...
the music rose again, majestically, as his hands molded my body and obedience; the tears came to my eyes, dripping down my face as his fingers found my center... and brought me the release I was fighting....
His will was a stain that spread across my soul for five glorious years. He taught me to listen to music with my entire body and mind, and my spirit is forever grateful.
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