Capable of breath and very little else. (The Dominatrix)

Laid up @ the Rain Tree Inn, lower end motel, squeaky beds, worn coils
Introductions are easily given.
It’s a short step from the door to the bed
but that was our singular journey.
An intimate gathering
more like taste if not like sight.
Here I described you as “magick”.
For you are the sophisticated spell that makes me feel immortal.
You are welcome in me. My local priestess. Hands raised.
Yes. I am awake and it must be time.
Today my cause is different . This is for you.
And in my usury I am complete.
Under sharp heel, these subtle scuffs are a boy reduced to tears-
forgetting to be graceful- due for demolition.
Just silence, dirt and a little blackness and compliance. Perfect compliance.
I own a back that aint afraid to be exposed.
Enjoys the sunshine- Scrapes against the shale- Feels the stretch of sinew-
Ignores the pain of your ritual. Crouches at your altar.
But never asks questions about death.
Never wants to know the answers. What they call unresponsive limbo.
The ooze life. The rev up and cruise life.
The booze life, the give up and lose life.
Craving finality
like pi-
knowing no infinite decimal.
I felt asolescent with you.
Four or maybe five.
Feeling too young to understand the pleasure in pain
and how children almost always suffer.

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