Spirited Charms

The girl is alive
I can’t help but
promise to lay still
underneath her
hypnotic spell.
She puts her tiny hands
half over my eyes,
and still,
the light dissapears.
There’s no chance in returning
to the defeated,
perhaps I’ve been claimed.
Taken by her
cruel kind of love,
still, she asks
I stand perfectly still.
I move an inch
and stare
into her glorious eyes.
She smiles and slaps me hard,
“I told you not to move.”
I guess I don’t mind
under this particular one.
She’s so different,
from the ones who simply gave.
There’s no free love
she and her spirited charms
I have to guard my thoughts.
She claws to get my attention
whispering the very words
she swore she’d avoid.
I’m drawn to her
innocent darkness
that others won’t beleive
is there.
What a freshness
her perfume electrifies the room,
and by instinct
I offer up my arm.
She twists the tourniquet
almost too hard
and then makes me wait.
She slowly needles in her love.
“That’s enough,” she spits,
“it’s better to have you starving.”
She’s beautiful
and I’m in love.
I can’t complain
about all the time
she spends in front of the mirror
after all, she reminds me
she’s wearing feather cuffs
for the pleasure
she’s about to unleash.

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