I have never been mastered.
I had never been called
By someone other than myself.
At Him touch had I felt
All of my open and
Spill into rooms,
Against windows,
And to rattle against bedframes,
Ribbons and blindfolds.
I open at the possession
Of hands in my hair,
Or teeth grazing, napping at
Breasts or thigh.
All these things now His.
He allowed me to find solace,
In His arms, as His eyes
Peer into me, calling all He saw
His future.
Beyond the mastery is
The commanding
Of the will of my body as
Every potion of me was
And remains His.
I am His.
At every touch,
Every thrust which my
Body yields to be assured
His name is and will remain
Etched along slick inner walls,
The mastery of me is complete.
Complete is
What I am in this time
Of our together, and
At this beckoning
And empty when
My body is no longer
In His control.
I have never been mastered.
I have been taken.
I have been commanded.
I have become a possession.
-Janelle Fallon, (c)2019
