Your Girl

let me be your girl.
your woman.
your everything.

let me fold myself into the shape
of your desires,
a perfect silhouette
crafted by your hands.

your sub,
wearing your favourite skin—
or no skin at all.
on my knees,
offering my silence
as a gift.
as a sin.

your gaze pierces.
I wait for it—
to punish, to pardon,
to define who I am.
only for you.
only through you.

dress me up.
tear me down.
place me in your world
like a doll you’ve dreamt of.
move my arms,
pose my lips,
make me your masterpiece.

but please—
don’t leave me alone.
don’t throw me in the corner like a used toy.
don’t reduce me to dust
in the shadow of your disinterest.
I can’t handle it.
I can’t handle you.

suffering for you—
fine.
aching for your love—
yes.
but suffering alone?
no.

let me serve you.
let me give.
let me sin
and hurt
and cry
for the privilege of your love.

I am yours.
your baby girl.
your rabbit.
and you are my wolf,
dark and wild,
the phantom of my most desperate dreams.

thank you.
thank you.
I am yours,
My Sir.