What kind of woman would I be
if I gave in to your every desire
succumbed to your unspoken demands
released myself and
this quiet passionate fury
at your mere suggesting or
direct command
That's what you claim to want
Tell me, how would you see me
if I held your hand and
led you to the darkest corners
the secret conclave
where imagination runs free and unencumbered
passion's curiosity is allowed to unfold
untamed and unleashed
fulfilling your wildest fantasy and
enacting your most vivid idea
Isn't that what you think you want?
But the truth is
it would change things
shatter your daily image of me
destroy your belief of who I am
leaving you confused
disappointed, possibly disgusted
admiration's lust sizzling down to
regrets melancholy
making you unable to
hold me in a revered light
or long for me from afar
Which is why it could never be
cause what kinda women would that make me?
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