Decadence Indulged

Was he impressed? Had he even bothered to give his best? Now, her body at rest, but her mind still put to the test... was it all just jest? Everything at his behest...
Indignant protest rose to a crest... how dare he...

i wonder what you saw in my eyes.
Did you see reflected there all the intensity you desire?
Could you tell how hot burned that fire, my need so dire?
The level of my addiction, not permitting any restriction, claiming me like an affliction?

Was it obvious i was enchanted? How firmly in my brain you stamped your name, your game just as strongly planted?

Demanded negation of skewed self, misconstrued self,
the reconstructed view of me, myself, twisted to conform to the norms
and needs of society demands that
she concede, fall in line with all the rest like weeds,
detest the nature of my breed, my brand,
this tattoo of mine, imbedded more deeply than a gland,
the core of me, the essential more of me-
which, to ignore of me, to unappreciate the whore of me,
is the death of me, removal of breath from me, skinning the flesh from me,
enmeshed in me, it has restlessly threshed in me,
with no satisfaction, no extraction into reality,
tangibly, desperately, rapaciously, voraciously
awaiting liberation from the shelf, consummation, cessation of such aberration...

A slap across the face, how trite, how hackneyed, overplayed, cliched, its significance utterly decayed...
But from your hands, a magic cascade, effect like a grenade...
so impossible to evade,
evoked from me, in fact, choked from me,
this voiceless serenade,
a promenade of awe and fear,
as you moved yourself near,
divinely delicious,
deadly dangerous,
equally vicious, ambitious
to gratify your capricious wishes
in this moment so propitious

Propelling palpable paroxysm
of lecherous lust, in which i now languish,
in penury and poverty of the heights of ecstasy,
missing the mountains of euphoria,
now left only with phantasmgoria,
memoria
of what was