I want your darkness.
I want your pain.
I want your suffering.
I want your sorrow and your rage and your animal lust .
I want it marked on my body like a map,
and
I want you to taste it in my tears
and know that I have taken it from you.

I want to pay the price of being yours.
Show me, again, what
justice
feels like.
But first,

make me beg for it.

Make me yours and make me
something greater
than I could be for my self.

Don't give me a choice:
you have decided
that you want me -

I am too long forsaken
now ready to be taken,
sharpened, shaped, and straightened,
bound and gagged,
a helpless gift
bowing low to you,
to be grafted to your soul
in that beautiful place where our desires bloom as one.

Eager to worship and lain naked before
your deep and private eyes:
a yearning mind
a burning body
and a restless heart to be
arrested
caressed
and kept
as your most sacred possession.

Here with this ink
I grovel at your feet,
readier than any
to follow you
down that dark and burning path of my
submission
to your needs and desires.

I am wet clay to be molded by your
strong and loving hands;
I will stick to you
and get under your skin
if you win
everything
that I have to give.



By Carly De Neve Weckstein