POEMS
by mocomab <mabnjess@concentric.net>



I. Denver, Colorado, 13 March?
   A Friday


Hot silk and leather
Slow kisses of iron
Pulsed with the back beat
From the local alley band

Slow kisses of iron
Left marks on his soul
Clawed angels of lava
Seared scars down his throat

Pulsed with the back beat
He pounded his heat
Leaving nothing alive
But a copper-salt kiss

From the local alley band
Came a wettish fever dream
Threatening images insane
That he swallowed without hope



II. The Prayer


A kiss of flame
Licks hot at my back
Like liquid fire.
Over and over until I bleed
And then more.
Forcing the tears from out of my eyes
The prayers from off my tongue
The pain from out of my heart.
My safe word?
There are no words that are safe.
Only "please,"
And strokes from a stranger
Granting me peace.



III. The Dungeon


She kneels
Stripped of all pretense
Waiting for a stranger
In a dark room
Smelling of latex and fear.
Masterless
Like a ronin
Willing to serve.
She wants what can't be given
What can only be taken
By force and pain.
Choosing for once
Her own punishment
Taking power in the chance.
Unbound by convention
While waiting to be chosen
By a stranger
In the dark.



IV. The Inquisitor


I search them out
Granting absolution
With my rough caress
And biting kiss.
Taking away
The part of them
That hurts
With a pain so clear
It screams
Salvation.



V. Communion


"This is my body."
Kneeling, lowered eyes
Mouth waiting, open
For your gift.
A taste like nothing
And everything.

"This is my blood."
Warm, salty, rich,
Flowing with life.
You give me yourself
And I take it
Swallowing
All that is you.