Sitting. Gazing. Fire burning low.
Reflected embers crackle and sputter in my eyes.
I see you propped. Bound and shackled by the denial
Of hunger for the long night. This night. Your night.

A shadow of a hand creeps and crawls. Searching. Finding. Touching.
Eyes close on tilted head with neck exposed at it’s caress,
And your breath takes shallow. The sheen of porcelain submission
Reflects the fire as it’s dance embraces you. Excites you. Engulfs you.

Denial binds no more it’s hold is broken. Shattered.
The links of resistance puddle at your feet in pools of desire.
One arm unbidden does rise and turn with wrist suppliant,
A head, bowed by freedom’s final kiss, is itself kissed by shadow’s lips.


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