A Masochist’s Poem

I am not going to say I caught feelings,

Because I do not want to ruin anything.

What we have is molten and consuming;

Magma burning under stone,

Flames licking a blacksmith’s tools,

Forged in heat, molded to your will.

If I say I caught feelings

Would that be the end?

Your hand against my cheek,

Tilting me up to face your smile…

How could I not fall under that sweet touch?

What masochist could resist the risk

Of catching feelings for their sadist?

Yet, if I say a word, like steam, it could be gone.

So, I am not going to say I caught feelings.

And I hope you will let me stay with you

Through the tectonic plates that crumble life,

Even if just for that occasional night of hedonism.

I need that touch, that pain, that kiss.

I will be your slave,

Kneeling with palms up, eyes down.

I long to be your slave just one more night.

And one more night after that,

Should the goddess Eir permit it.

So, I will never say I caught feelings.

Unless… perhaps

Have you caught feelings too?

-Evelyn Silver




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