I think it’s beautiful. By Soledad Dagmar Green

I think it’s beautiful

T.W: Sexual Context

Strap me down, my bones are bound,

I cannot move, I love

to drown. One comes off,

another falls. He loves

to see me. Free me-

hold me. Turn me good,

scare me straight, see me

flinch and tease me,

scold me.

Brewing, frothing at the mouth,

it keeps quiet and stays

deep down. Asking to be

looked at: up and down,

down on my knees, tell me

no and touch me inside out.

Love me harder than I’m

used to, use my

bones and my beating blood thump

to pound out your power. I am

your little miss, please grip

my jaw and kiss me.

When you leave, 

I miss you.

When you come home,

you come down hard. The high road

bores, your teeth tear through

to apple cores. Pieces

you throw on the floor,

I eat them and I never

ask for more.

Lowdown and shameful and

burning pink, my hunger feels

but cannot think. It

clamors, leaps up

in my eyes. It even dares to

ask you why you care to

feed me. Need me –

wrap around, my blood is bound

to your word.

I cannot move, I make no

sound. You wipe my tears,

and watch me drown.

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