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Strict Machine

My inconvenient journey

it’s time to finally admit

I love her.

By some random chance

or accidental meeting

I did not mean

to trip and stumble

on her lap.

I can finally admit

I am left with

this stolen feeling

like I’m owed her love.

She’s the only one

that would ask for

her very own

strict machine.

I’m in love with

her eye to detail

how tightly wrapped

her special bow sits

when she craves to beg.

Inside her special box

are a list of affections

she insists on

each morning and night.

Time and attention

are expertly spread out

evenly throughout her day.

I’d hate to catch

her not paying attention to

all the pretty things

that brighten and highlight

all the reasons why

I find myself

so

in love with her.

It’s My fault

I see her in one way.

Beautiful you,

the night crawls closer

I cannot wait

until you’re on all fours

begging for

your expensive leather leash.

The feline

lapping up the attention now

chin tipped of course

eyes hidden and very still

in that one position

from palms to wrists

to bare bottom.
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2 responses to “Strict Machine”

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