–When a boy thinks of a girl–

his cheeks don't go red,
nor do his pupils dilate
but his heart beats as fast
as a horse's gallop in race

His lips strongly tremble
in the midst of conversation
his legs that won't settle
due to headstrong infatuation

her beauty overwhelms him
her cold hand warms his heart
her gaze,  like Medusa's
a romantic work of art

his thoughts full of appreciation
for whatever form she may have
a wonderful mem'ry,  imagination
a thought that can't be grasped

his thoughts he can't express
his mouth he cannot open
his words he can't confess
but his heart, ť was always broken

but all this is not really
'bout when a boy thinks of a girl
because in these words you can tell
that he had always loved her.

I love it when you use me.

Lighting the fire in my soul,
A slave at your bidding.

My clothes; a veil to hide
Your canvas:

The marks, the bruises,
The bite on my lip,
The saliva on my neck,
The rope burns on my wrists.

Signs of love that I wear proudly.

And while I retreat back
To the working life, with suit & tie,
As a professional working man,
Your voice chains me in place.

"I'm not done with you."*

With each layer falling to the floor,
In their rightful place,
Again,

I gladly offer every inch of my body to your personal satisfaction.