I Love When I Find One Of My Poems From My Deleted Blog, Or In This Case, They Find Me. @owithadash2point0

Sometimes Submissive

Sometimes submissive has nothing to do with ropes and chains. There are no harsh commands or red marks left by hands and crops or chains. It is simply staying still as I take you in. Look at you, a woman no one would suspect contains such passion. Savoring each curve and your perfect skin. Knowing all that others cannot see, all that would amaze and scare and thrill them about you

is mine

Hours

Hours. I can spend hours savoring each square inch of perfection,

made perfect not by popular standards or the right software, but made pefect because it is you.

Soul Love

And after they are done with you. And after I am done with you and you are cut down. No one except the one who knows you best (Me) could ever understand why you would fall to your knees and thank me.

Hi, send me a private message

Reach out any time.

Another poem from my old banished blog. Thank you all who saved and share these.

Unconventional

Who every made you believe, lied. Just because no one else has appreciated the curls or the curves or the drive or the emotions and all the beautiful abnormalities that set you apart, does not mean I am wrong in how I see you. It simply means, at long last, after a lifetime of settling, neither of us need to.

So bear yourself to me, one more time. Show me the flesh that is mine. Let me love you with all the tenderness of a night with wine and conversation before we break out the whips and the chains each of us finding satisfaction finally, without limits, unconventional, and so right.

By the Time I am Sated

Ah, the time I will take with you. Your arms tied high. Your legs spread. Dressed in nothing but heels and a collar. Teetering. Exposed. Unsure where you are, only that for the next few hours, every square inch of your body will be touched. At times softly. At times roughly. Your body mine, and by the time I am sated, your soul as well.

And Just When You Think

And just when you think there are no more adventures... I show you otherwise.

That is our life. And always will be.

Less

The older I get,

The less tame

I like my women.

The Problem

The problem is... The problem has always been that everything reminds me of you, and there is not enough time with you, for me to tell you how.

I love when one of my poems from my deleted blog finds me!

Touch

There is nothing of yours that touches anything of mine that does not excite.