Ink Stains II

II. Acceptance


I guess I could
forget
I know I will
numb
with ice
the swollen
bite you leave

Laughter
of our creation
will scatters
like raindrops over
my weeping
pansies

Hot summer wind
will blow
up the steps
and the pages will
flip open again
spouting my
irrelevant
girlish
fantasies
exposing
your dominance
and my failure
to submit

Each page
that turns
yanks at my
slave's collar
and I fall
a little harder
Each time I try
to steady myself