Submission is an art form
Sometimes ugly in its manifestation
But always beautiful
The ways we kneel at each other's feet
Strong spines flexing
To meet
The will. The commands.
The needs.
And how our hands can grip so tight.
Hanging on to be led.
In the spirit of being fed. My mouth opens wide or you.
And these words and ways of being yours drip From my lips.
My hips spread and lift.
Opening softness as you sink in. Passages. Testaments to passionate fulfillments.
My heart pours. Bleeds. Beats.
Emptying to be filled by you.
I believe in WE
Submitting
As if there were nothing left.
Nothing else that mattered.
After we've stretched
The torn fabric of us the only cover we had against dark and cold.
And that can be ugly at times.
But there's something beautiful in being to say MINE.

















