I’m glad
you’re mine.
I’m glad
I own you.
I’m glad
you wear my brand.
I’m glad
you let me beat you.
I’m glad
you let me get you off.
I’m glad
you hold all the cards.
I’m glad
you’re the one actually in charge.

I’m glad
you wear the collar,
but I’m the slave.
I’m glad
whatever darkness stands between us
is only in play.
I’m glad
for safewords,
and all they imply.

Be mine forever,
and I’ll always
be glad
to beyours.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

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