Was it Submission?

Sonja Hernandez
A chance meeting, in the dark of night

His hand entwined in my hair, I don't fight.

The cool metal pressed against my cheek

I am frozen, powerless, why am I meek?

The absent instinct to run or scream for help

Against the strength of his body, I mold, I melt.

Swept away by the passion of his control

My eyes into the back of my head, just roll.

Carried away by forbidden lust

My body, my soul, to him, I entrust.

Published by Sonja Hernandez

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