Say it to me, baby,
that you want me, still,
after all that I've done to you,
I hear you breathing out hot
- lying flattened on the cold floor -
even after the hard bruisin'
you've gone through - swell, it was.
And I wrecked such havoc on you
all because I care for you,
nothing more, nothing less.
I beat you up swell
to get you in a better shape
just like a sculptor
beating his stone
into the shape of David - bare naked.
I'm modern Michelangelo, so to say,
and I want you
to whisper to me
that you crave me,
that you desire still
such tyranny of mine
even more. So just say it,
for your perfection
and a sheer thrill that follows
- all these, right at our hands - are so close.
Wicked as it is,
my whispering to you demands it.
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(C) Copyright: Saul Bae