Fear.
Lust.
Scream at me in the night,
your voice a torrent of
harsh angles and
soothing lullabies of pain.


You are the sting of a razor—
you are the bite of claws,
exquisite anguish
for me to swallow.


Fear and power—
you hold all the truth I've
ever sought,
you mold flesh with your
poison tongue, like flickering
points of flame,
your touch leaves searing
trails in my skin,
burning the deepest pleasure into
the fabric of my soul.


~~~Elizabeth Brothers 1998

© 1998 Elizabeth Brothers, no portion of this work may be re-produced without written consent of the author.