Tuesday, 22 April 2014

NaPoWriMo Catch-up: Leather Donax

It's the helplessness
as much as it's the pain.
It's as much about the uselessness of the struggle
as it is about being restrained,

and it's tricky to explain this
in a culture like our own
where sex is page three of some papers
and dirty postcard jokes,

but the place where these words come from,
and the feeling I have of escape
that I get when someone's trapped me:
well, they come from the same place,

because it isn't just getting my rocks off,
or what's below my waist.
It's the closest I come to the sacred:

it's magic. Divinity. Grace.


I saw 'Leather Donax' in the list of seashells given as the prompt for day 19 and I thought 'yeah, another BDSM poem, why not?'

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