7 Comments

Below Stairs.

I am still trying to work on my self imposed commitment to try new styles and genres in my writing. Below is a short meld of bits of this and that. Its a kind of story and poem with an historical yet erotic twist thrown in, oh my!    I call it ………………………………practice!

below stairs

You asked me once if I knew your name, I could not answer, we were not the same.

You could chose and you could reason, if I hoped for more it would be treason.

For I was born to serve the world and you were born to rule unfurled

To me there was no name to share, no binding cord to show you care.

 

The pain you craved was hidden deep, behind stone walls and protected keep,

Yet you came to me and shared your soul and I gave you the freedom of it all.

I bared my body to feed your lust, it was my place and to survive I must,

When I wept in pain you drank my tears, until pure joy replaced the fears.

 

I’m bound and tied, I cannot flee, and still I yearn for what will be.

I await your feel and crave your touch and soon the ache becomes too much.

You tease my skin with dark and light, the lash of leather and feathered slight.

The reddened marks they fuel your fire and still you soar and reach for higher.

 

You trace your tongue across my flesh, from ear to throat and then refresh,

You squeeze and tease a hardened tip, the trembling throes of passions grip.

Your tongue moves lower across pale skin, I strain against this mortal sin,

Yet how could we reject this force that ties us blindly in its course.

 

You untie my bounds and leave to go, you say no words but your eyes they show,

That this is all there will ever be, that you are the master and the servant, me.

And as I taste the salt of a tear, I tender the seed of your essence left here.

I’ll love and protect and cherish and care. Will you ever know the child I shall bare?

(Image from fineartamerica.com)

About helenmidgley

Helen Midgley likes to think of herself as a cross between Dawn French and Kate Moss. She has been in the witness protection programme for a number of years and once lived in Brighton as a bearded mechanic called Dave! Her current incarnation is as a part-time Journalism & Media tutor at a small FE College in Yorkshire. She has survived cancer, dandruff and athlete’s foot and has a penchant for black humour and red wine.

7 comments on “Below Stairs.

  1. Strong voice. Painfully exploited yet somehow forgiving.

  2. You left me breathless with familiar emotions.

  3. Ex ellent words!

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