- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Oh, How You Taunt
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My Love, oh how you taunt.
My Passion, oh how I would tremble to touch.
My Vice, oh how my core is engulfed by the irrevocable and outright violent need to have you.
Oh how you taunt. My eyes see you even when shut. I wish to strap you down and dominate your very mind. It is you, you who are holding me down.
I squirm. I wriggle. The squealing creature deep within lashed to the altar of your dark and twisted eyes.
Lashed and bound by the closeness and eternal distance of your body.
I am charged to feel your teasing presence and be so savagely and aggressively deprived of the one thing that I need most.
I cannot have. I cannot taste. I cannot get you, for I am tied naked to your table, your black table of temptation.
Lashed and screaming, roaring as you flay my cold and hardened soul with your intense and inviting attractiveness.
Your cruelty is palpable and done without intent, and yet you avoid my hungry and ravenous thirst to be yours.
I am your creature, and you my Pain are master to this wretched thing that awakens only for you.
Oh, how you taunt.
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