The space between the gaps

  • The longer as I sit here,
  • the longer I urged wild.
  • The bigger my hopes,
  • the fears killing my insides.


  • Play romantic, but bite my lobe.
  • Be careful, but tease my wounds.
  • Whatever you want me to be,
  • I am lurking ready on the ground.


  • Use every part you can reach,
  • drag me down to where I belong.
  • deprivate me of to hear, to see.
  • it makes me weak when you are strong.


  • Clever words are not mine to say,
  • when these are not the ones you want.
  • I obey and you demand, under your control.
  • At your leash, tell me that your own my soul.


  • If I bite, bite back and slack.
  • If i am willing, you reward.
  • But I need to learn the way
  • where good girls go apart.


  • No power, no break, my enduring.
  • My will, your gaze, applauding.
  • Feed the need, the itch that is
  • for both of us to raise and split.


  • Mistress is no name, but profession.
  • Life in hands, face to devour.
  • I am nothing than but possession
  • here to fulfill, eager to perform.


  • The gaps in the crack of masks
  • and they ought not to bear.
  • But you find them, open here
  • and filling the space as I asked.

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