The Inner SeaCanto II

I am your slut, your slave, your total whore.
All of this, and more and more,
consumed by phantom ecstacy,
lost a drift on inner sea.

You torque my arms up and stretch chain me
to the boards, pulled taut and strained,
my muscle tremor and rattle my joints,
my elbows shake in pain and shoulders scream,
my arms cry in outrage as they slip from moorings.

You yank the manacles aroudn my ankles slipped,
tearing at the bounds between my legs and hips,
and straining to that miraculous curve,
that is my sex exposed and bound to serve.

And so it is, so I am, so it must be,
the spray and salt washes over me,
it's sparkling acid pain upon my skin
and sharp irritation of my eyes.
My head flails from side to side.
I say taht one word over and over again.

No. No. No. No. No. No.
That means only Yes.
For that is where we are, deep adrift on the gulf of Yes.
Deep fallen lost into the abyss of Yes.
The moon has entered the house of Yes,
and the sun there overtakes her,
and in reverse eclipse consumes her ripened form.

I am exposed, my rose is red,
my pearl you find from within my depths,
and take it in your tongue, rolling the hard bright need
and tasting all that is within me.

I am enflamed, no slat inlet wetness can douse
and feel like other fingers your eyes upon me, roaming
roaming over my body, but fixed with eagle gaze
upon my opening now utterly east and ready for you.

In the sky the warming dawn forgotten,
the bright fair trade winds of early morning
are consumed by glowering clouds of coming cyclone,
that will swirl and smash upon this my small vessel
the one that has carried us this far,
driven before yours gusts and blows.

You drive, drive, drive, chained to your oars
as I am chained to these boards,
the sharp splinters of pain only whet me
and wet me,
and ripple my muscles in anticipation.

The consort queen smiles as her flush spatters on my cheeks,
the welling up of sensation, eager for your rough hewn kiss,
your lips they rape my skin as you rape my body.

And I want nothing else.

This is me. This is me.
A creature of my inner sea.
And my dear, how this must be.

The storm god, trident armed,
now whips the waves to ripping frenzied crests,
and you pour over me.
Drench me.
Drown me.
Your mouth plunges wide upon mine,
Which is opened aching for your tongue
As your other tongue, no longer soft serpentine,
But now a force forged like metal by blows,
Now rushing into my inlet,
Sluicing over every ribbing and weave,
Pounding, pounding, pounding
Unable yet, to relieve, that tension that swells
Swells within you.

Egged on by trident god, you roar and roll
Roar and roll over my flesh, tearing my breasts,
Rending their soft shape in conformance to your desire,
Rounding them beyond the roundness of nature's gift.

You pull me farther farther farther into the rift.

The storm erupts over us, and I am twisted into this shape,
By forces stronger than steel,
More powerful than I know how to command.

We have forgotten the beaches,
We have forgotten the soil,
We are far away, from sight, or sound of land,
And even its memory is swallowed by these swells.

The torrent of winds slices across us,
The flaps of clothes that remain,
Clinging to our bodies as torn sails that brought us here,
Are riven by the flowing air, their hems lash at me.

As the tempest, pushed by trident god,
Pulled by consort queen,
Rattles us and all we are,
The heavens darkened.
The celestial crashes down upon my face,
I see the sky through the drops that fall within my eyes,
A shuttering shift from glooming churning grey
And the blank of splash spray spattered into mine eyes.

I am acid eaten by my inner sea.

There is a rumbling, there is a roar,
My silken thighs are torn by your thrusts,
A pulsing wave rises
And then, there is no more.

The darkness gushes up and hits my inner eyes,
and I drift to sleep listening to the consort queen's lies.

It will be, it must be
and forever wrapped within the inner sea.