The name stamped onto the lock says, "Master."
But the keys are yours, Mistress. My body,
wrapped in this neat little package, is yours.
Do I dare call myself a present?
I'm the one who's on the receiving end.
You took me on, taking in my stiff prick
and swelling my head with your compliments,
your complaints, even out and out neglect.
Nothing--when it comes from you--is a gift;
wrapped in your aura of authority
even shit tastes sweet, and the void you leave
leaves me full.
It's a Christmas whenever you put your foot down,
and the stars I'm seeing must be heaven.
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Comments2I remember reading Bob Flanagan's poems when I was younger. His writing feels raw and emotional. The way he speaks about the relationship with his Mistress in the poem shows the intensity and vulnerability of submission. It is truly a powerful piece of work.
REALLY TAPPED INTO THE MINDSET OF A SUBMISSIVE IN THIS POEM! SOME REALLY INTENSE EMOTIONS WITH STRONG IMAGERY. MOVED ME, AND MADE ME THINK A LOT! GREAT WORK!