LITE BY DARKNESS

Do not mock me because I have a need
I was once a Princess to an honorable man
Do not mistreat me because you do not know my worth

I am beyond these few pennies you trash at my feet
My tears may not make meaning to you sir
But maybe my story will...

It was love for a man that caged me
He told me of love beyond tall mountains
And orgasms beyond heaven
He told me he would bring me the world
And he was blessed with unfailing passions
I was only naive and content with warmth
How was I to know that the heart of man was like a flowing stream
Going where it pleased
Flowing shallow...
But running deep

My nakedness was my pride
A secret I shared with my lover
Only to be beheld by his eyes
My garments clung to me jealously
Not compromising even in heat
Questioning even careless breeze
Away from me,
                         ...my body trembled
                         ...at the thought of his return
                         ...his touch... his moan
My soul fed on secret memories
And my heart stopped beating at the intensity of thoughts of our last alone
He was my idol, my sworn soul mate, my god
But...
          "tire not my sex master I pray thee... 
          listen on to my tale and lean a thing or two
          if you must feast on my flesh so desperately 
          at least comprehend a piece of my guilt
          so skillfully hidden by need, and misplaced lust"

The river I called a man had traveled far...
Deep into new valleys and had enjoyed strange routes
Been bathed by unknown hands
And swallowed by unfamiliar lips
My husband brought back wild seeds from each sojourn
And grow them in our home
Soon I became a bore and a lifeless straw
Unfit and weak for his newly found intellectual conquest
My nude garden was left dry and unattended
And when I demanded my warmth back
I was thrown to the streets

My pride was chewed like sugar cane and spat in the dust
                         My tenderness was tricked,
                         fondled and rejected...
                         Abused...
Now here I stand...
With a strange man in a room lite with darkness
Lite by darkness
Lite by passion that my mother never must hear of
His hands are cold
Not like my love...
His heart is dead
Only my needs beat...
© Kyng David. All rights reserved , 2015

Photo credit: #rapidfotos
model; Eno Alex