The Vigil
She reaches out to touch me
A caress of ice or fire
I tense in fear
Not of her wrath
But that, of me she'll tire
My arrogance long left me
So humble here I quake
And pray the lash
To kiss my skin
And whisper my mistake
I know now my submission
Has proven me a liar
My trembling flesh
Against my bonds
Revealing my desire
I wait now in the darkness
I do not cry for light
But that my love
My Mistress
Will come to me tonight
Copyright © Anthony Cassano | Year Posted 2015
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