You are my addiction,
my sweet drug
that keeps me
Imagining your fingers
sliding up my spine,
intoxicating my skin,
tying my soul
to your touch.
My symptoms
don’t fade
whisk away
on the wind.
My wrists are bound,
shackled to memories
of your hard body
and your soft skin,
to the stains of ink
peppering your flesh.
Inject me
with your potions,
and I will call you Master,
for you are my addiction
that no intervention
can mend.


One thought on “Addicted

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