The makings of slave
The makings of a slave
He treated me like a farmer tending land
He praised me nourished me
gently raked his fingers
through my soft brown soil
Poured forth affirming words like oil
SIGH
Spoiled

Then suddenly those kinds words stopped
  Everything besides the unfastening of his zipper
  from the bottom to the top

Without warning  he'd
****** me up into his arms
till and toil my heartbroken soil around the clock
CELEBRATION
APPRECIATION NO WHERE TO BE found
SILENCE
NO SOUND
just that zipper from bottom to top

Thought it was me
So my heart I did unlock
In vain
steadily tick-tock tick -tock

We were
Distant planets drifting farther apart
I tell you the truth
It's the start of:
THE MAKINGS OF A SLAVE