Inspiration in Black, Blue, and Blow Jobs
His hands were almost as liberating as his words
Teaching me all that I had never understood before
I was hellbent to deflect his lessons
But with teeth booming and iron fists
The great leader and giver
He granted me freedom from my expectations
I was only a small thing
In the beginning
Unaware of my impact on others
But he grew me
It was his mission
Fed me emotions on a silver spoon
His and mine
Mine and his
Until I bloomed
Into a swollen nymph made for
Pleasure
And
Erected
Soundproof walls
Filled with his gratification
In order
To dispel my own
For there was no more room
After he gave so much of himself
Lifting pounds upon poundings
Of what was there before
Myself
With wings
Embers from within insisted
They'd burst
And be swept into the night sky
Like the aftermath glitz of a
Firework
On the Fourth of July
Into the forever ever always and never
Atmosphere
Fading from stars
To fireflies
And then away and away again
Where myself can no longer singe a single hair
Atop anyone's head
Safe and restricted
Folded and gifted
For him
All wrapped up with invisible tape
With a red bow
And ribbons
And he sung me the song of the
Lord knows best
Yes
Best that I'd rest with fingers encasing his member
His eyes to a sweet little number
On page 59
From December
It was all in the love
And
The giving
So I'd given and cashed in for my worth
The beauty of
A Knot on the head
Great tits
And a
Fantastic Blow Job
The
End
The Taking.
We fucked up.
Well, really it was me.
You just sat there all beautiful
Giving
Asking nothing in return.
You've changed.
But I changed you.
I dug deep.
Took what was yours.
I get what I want.
But you don't belong to me.
I should have thought this through.
I can change.
It can't be too late.
It's me that is the problem.
America, you were always great.