A Twist Of Memory

I need to hurt him.
I twist the rope through my fingers and remember…

His body stretched out,
Hands pressed against the wall,
Naked, vulnerable and strong.

Rope looped and twisted,
Strands rough against my palm,
Each arc swinging freely.

Each stroke a caress,
Leaving its criss cross mark,
His shoulders signed with a kiss.

He takes each stroke,
But it’s not enough for him,
It’s not enough for me.

I need him to scream.
To see his body tense
and yet still hold his place.

I need him to take my pain,
To set it free
And cry his love for me.

I need to hurt him…
I twist the rope through my fingers and remember.