Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Radiator

My lover tied me to the radiator,
because I was too much trouble to be free,
but the trouble was, bound wrists didn’t make me any less irresistible,
so I still dripped poison into her perception, until I drove her insane.

In a sweet, sing song voice,
I simply asked when she might decide to let me go,
and that set her off,
across the bedroom she launched,
back arched like a cat with a taste for troubled prey,
and there I stayed, smiling as if my mouth were full of unmelted butter.

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