"Pulse One: Unzip"

"Pulse One: Unzip"

Eyes that plan like
eyeing plans like
tieing hands.
Those
binding hands so
idle then wild like
exploring child who
found the paste and
marked the face.

I 

know the motion and
taste emotion.
It soothes like lotion.
This pungent potion,
it wreaks of fear.
those salty tears
that land in ears
I stack in tiers.
I have for years.

If

you could measure
your portion of pleasure,
your pearl on the pillow,
your coveted treasure, 

would you go through with it? 

Would you trust me with this blindfold?
Would you still believe if a lie is told?
How bold before you say "take it back?"
Do you still care if you make it back? 

Laying back.
Lying down.
On your knees.
On the ground.
Yeah I'm down
and if you frown
then pretend some laughter.
Leave the chatter.
We're here for now
but I'm leaving after.
No seeing after.
Just covered eyes.
Tug at the ties.
No knots to slip.
So vice the grip. 

So true the story. 

So vague my thoughts.
They lay before me.
One hand unbound
just for exploring.
You can't come down
so play before me.
Between the sounds
you reach out for me. 

You

get a firm grip
and would bite your lip
if not for handkerchief
lodged between teeth
where the moans would meet
with screams that expand lungs.
Tongue bounced between
cheek and dirty fabric.
Rapid fire rabid
like it was a habit.
Spoken tongues of glory.
Boundless sin before me.
Lips so raw and swollen.
Find some allegory.

Searched

for what it means.
Perched above like fiends.
You my latest dream
born of longest slumber.
Name among numbers.
You my favorite symbol.
Closer than the needle
but I hold the thimble.

How

you shake and tremble
bound and strapped in earnest.
Declined the ice water.
Feet placed near the furnace

and

pleasure you've furnished.
Can't stand so you learn this
through torture devised
 
to incur demise

at

each waking moment.
You hold no atonement.
Just the want for more  
sweat seeping from pores.

Wrists
bound to the door.
Stripped
down to the floor.
Gripped
you at your waist.
Lips
I bite to taste.

.......if you push me,
I won't say I'm sorry.
I can't pretend that time is thin
and wonder if you saw me.
You are the fang,
the fur
and the fin
but I promise safari.
Long since I've met such charming
firm figured flesh worth scarring.
Heart in the chest for sparring.
Heart worn on vest.

I'm starting

to wonder if
this is a gift
or my affliction.
I do this well
to soothe and quell.
This may be my addiction
but addiction
to affliction
isn't far from a prediction
and if so,
I'd let it show.
I will subscribe to no prescription. 

Listen.

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz 

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