As I sit in my old chair, your gaze has me transfixed.
My heart lays enchained in front of me.
Body unable to do the simplest task.
Yearning and pleading to you, the kiss.
So sweet, so irresistible, flawless.
I know it is dangerous, I know it will cost me everything.
Like the series of old, she compels me and denies me.
Those lips calling to me, kissing a hurricane would be safer, yet
Running to the eye, lips ready is all my body can muster.
She sits before me, smiling, aware I’m her’s to command, her’s to control.
I hold the whip, yet she the power. I will remain in my old chair, my throne,
My seat of power, helpless, under her spell. She is good, she is evil, she is suductive,
She is queen, she is mine, she is sweet, she is perfect.
