Dally With Me There

My most precious
I own her
and so set her free
as I please,
to see the world
and fly back to me,
ever back to me,
to her gilded cage.
She does not resent the bars,
does not resent the collar
I put at her throat,
does not feel anything but pride
at how she must kneel.
She gives,
and I take,
and in return,
I am the one
who lives in the cage,
while she only must
dally with me there,
every once in a while.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.