Hands bound above your head,
Eyes cloaked in my delicate darkness.

This isn’t about you being aroused,
This is about how you will feel,
About me,
Getting you there.

And, this won’t be poetic love,
No, no song lyrics to the rhythmic
Beat of your heart.
Tonight will be a beautiful suffering,
Tonight I’ll let your heart beat,
To my rhythm.

I’ll choose the pictures you will hear,
And with precise accuracy,
Match them to each sting,
So through your veil you’ll see,
My sweet sincerity.

No, baby this isn't poetic love.
But, it is love who tells me who
You want to be.
And I will keep that version of you,
From all of those,
Whose love only lives
In a world of duplicity.

Theirs is mindless paraphilia,
Theirs lacks creativity and passion.
I have let you into my mind,
And you left behind a profound ache,
Beyond desire,
And that crave directs this performance.

This isn’t about poetic love.
This is about how you feel,
About me,
Getting you there.