Words that roll like fairy floss around a
tongue of, creme dela creme.
He wishes me to be learned; no outlandish thoughts,
instead, reflected angelic reminders, of heaven within a hell.
His impression seeks submission,
while anchoring silence we share,
desirous of making love there,
in darkened, hushed, tranquility,
in states of abstained speech.
As if concealing muffled lust,
smooth’s his harsh demeanor.
And secrecy entices masked quivers,
to overflow passive humility,
into both of us.
Tameness taught, and meekness, lure,
a side he shows no one.