All Magic comes with a price.
Not all men can handle a strong woman.
A lot of them tend to make us feel like we are weak,wrong , crazy even with our impulse feelings to rule and to be dominated.
They would happily send us to a place to be Abominated.
Not all men can dominate a strong woman
It takes a real man – with a front and backbone – one that he uses .
One that he knows how to use and simply won’t take her refusals.
A firm hand – pressed against her delicate neck bone – wind pipe-disarmed . A Struggle to breathe.
Shock – Fight or flee.
Stay and put up with it – two stubborn souls connect – who is going to win?
She could fight you, she will put up a good bluff .
Poker face. Stoke his fury – Flush her out – until she is red in the face .
Hair fanned out in a perfect pose,astrologically aligned with her sin.
She knows when to stop him. She pushes back his arm.
Will he get the message or will he continue with the power trip and go one and on ?
The moment of truth is in his bare hands.
Her life, her breathe is his – she is at his wildest demands.
He won’t take no for answer – she won’t refuse his frustration.
She would rather end up black and blue
Thumbed, printed ,read all over- front to back.
than pass on her pain,
Her 6 red eyed ,three-headed Cerebus demon.
Dizzy disparate desperation.
She won’t see that reflection – not one drop will trickle from his eye the mirror that she sees is, in fact, her depiction.
She is his keeper – She owes him his salvation.
Till death do us part.
Charon take your ferry – set back sail on the river Styx . She casts the ferryman back to eternal damnation.
Lust , love , it’s all a part of the combined heady scent and the sweat .
gender – Sexual Agenda – together, forever in each others debt.
A pounding heart. She suddenly gasps.
does she fight for one last caress?
Love is complicated. So is she.
He is her man.
Her king and she will let him be.
Euphoria – deuphoria – her hands tremble – she is shaking.
Pins and needles – no voodoo.
True Magic, is two people madly in love.
two hearts – hers stopped beating so he took out his own – ripped it from his chest – tore it in half and gave her one part.
She doesn’t need a rib.
She needs a beat – a rhythm.
A Civil rights movement protest.
bloody driven from her comfort- safety zone.
This time, when she makes a noise it won’t be a solemn, repressed moan.
Jolted into believing.
Stained sheets. She is done with teasing.
She is the Queen of his heart.
Same time tomorrow – so they can resume their riske business meeting.
* Inspired by watching Once upon a time*