- Erotic Poetry
- The Game
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The Game
I taste the metal hasp, cold steel
Spit dripping down your tired arm
Let my tongue trace your lips around
The hard intrusion of the gag
I like to watch the way the tips of your toes
Strain and flicker: red to white to red
Hoping to relieve the screaming pressure
Your whole weight through your shoulders
Sometimes I leave for hours
Then find you standing in a puddle of your piss
How sweet of you to sting yourself
Along the welts all down your thighs
When my own hands are burning
Red to match your buttocks and your belly
I cool them on your tear soaked cheeks
It's only fun if it is real. It isn't real unless you're crying
Arjay Eiff
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