Confusion that never stops
The closing walls and ticking clocks
She aches to find herself on her knees
a warm kiss touching, like a soft spring breeze
She aches for a blindfold to shut out the light
and a whispered promise in the dead of night
She aches for her wrists and body to be bound
as she listens immobile, alert to each sound
She aches for his hands, his feathered caress
teasing a nipple, fondling her breast
She finds only confusion that never stops
and closing walls and ticking clocks…
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