when your fingers twitch
and my limbs fly in response, when your heart
sinks and i choke on the rising tide:
do not say submissive, do not say powerless,
do not pretend there is a lack of control.
when this is over
i'll return to my brightly-lit web,
my own little mysteries spun of silk and
my own incandescent lies;
for now your narrative is enough, the smell
and the sex and the sting of your love,
to keep me bound.