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BDH May 2012
To fringe with padded lengths
the entirety of your outershell,
and thereby judged
sent into the wastelands
a labour of love.
A slave.

I claim no liberty.
Endow me with cuffs
and porcelain chains that bind,
servant to master.

Intertwined in folly
belying your aloofness
violent whips divulge your essence
we both lay shredded.

You do not spare me,
though my eyes invite you openly.
Instead you surround me,
walk before me,
and ply your wares with others.

Sickened I fall,
clawing against stone and neck anchor,
beating my heart into the walls of my longing.

You reprove me,
bidding for silence,
or the little I get will be lost.

— The End —