Hunger
by Asphyxmissive



Here in this underworld of desire.
The sublevel of the building
Where Lust resides directly above, and with
Love on a higher story, we sink here
Near the dripping pipes adorned with handcuffs,
and our voices echo off  grimy walls
stained with scorn and taboo.

I could light this room with garish neon signs
proclaiming “Hot Kinky Sex” and
undermine everything this place means to me.

Instead  I light candles, with low flames
that melt the wax slowly, leaving it hot
to drip across the skin of someone
who struggles helplessly in erotic torment,
tied spread eagle to the wall.
Fetish is checked at the door
to be disposed of in high profile clubs,
for the weekend slaves, the sometimes masters.

In my world, in the cries of pain or moans of pleasure
people translate their need, to feel complete
through submission.  Poseurs would call this sex,
and can’t recognize it as something
more beautifully savage,
a dance of passion and submission, driven
by the need for control and to be controlled.

Here in this underworld of desire
souls are surrendered when
sweaty limbs are intertwined,
and bodies writhe in candle light.
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Asphyxmissive is a creative persona working in the Philadelphia area.
To contact her for design work, poetry, or additonal creative services
please email asphyxmissive@yahoo.com