Impressions of His Skin

Impressions of His Skin

Like a wild range mustang that had never known the foreign hand of a human captor
Whose spirited nostrils had never smelled the stench of domestic captivity
My spirit had always fled before the notion of adorning myself with any Man’s yoke
Though the flight was instinctual and far from the rigid notion of logical…

I instead pursued the elusive vision of the Man who could champion my desire
Like a ghost in the machine who could never be attained but was omnipresent within
The lust of the chase in the eyes of a prospective was something that amused me
For I alone knew the abysmal failure that awaited His feeble attempts at persuasion…

Then my neck was snapped back in full gallop by the whip of His hands in my hair
Surprising me with the cold, hard intensity of His grip that twisted as it took me
All my thinly masked protests were whisked away like grains of sand in a hurricane
He ripped through the illusions of my decency like a sharp knife slices warm butter…

My dignity stood as the final sentinel between the swell of His domination and me
Worn threadbare now from the systematic insistence of His verbal assault on my mind
What had stood so valiantly as a fortress of iron against so many unlikely pretenders
Now lay inert and useless in an impotent mass of tangled string and ribbon at my feet…

I trembled uncontrollably now…not at the sight of Him as He towered above my eyes
Nor at the shroud of the power that adorned Him like some gilded chain mail robe
Nor at the thought of what the intensity in His eyes would become when it met mine
I trembled at the thought of what my body would do when His lips possessed me…

I shuddered not at the thought of what might come when His hands contacted my skin
But at the thought that His hands would never grant the release that drove me insane
Arching in anticipation of the steel of His skin against the fluid contours of my flesh
Aching at the idea that His skin might never graze mine, leaving this lust unrequited.

petiteredhead, le 17 mai 2007 …pour lui