- Erotic Poetry
- Move Your Hair
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Move your hair.
My hands have been
frozen
against the wall.
You don’t even
have to
hold them
anymore.
Although I like it
when you do,
I am bound by you
mentally
with no real bondage
necessary.
Move. Your. Hair.
you say again
low and menacing
against my ear and
as if in a trance
my hands move
to my hair and
bare my neck
for you.
Such a good girl,
you say,
so obedient.
And not a breath later
Your teeth are
In my skin
marking me
reminding me,
even if not
for always,
in these few
forbidden
moments
I am yours.
- COMMENTS
29wordsforsnowabout 3 years agoIt seems that the hair alone is left to its free will, to hide and expose its appendix, now possessed until the mark fades.
Thanks for sharing.
