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The gasp, the sigh,
The unshed tear within her eye,
The tremble of her lower lip,
The tiny skirt I quickly flip,
Bared for me at any time,
Every inch of her is mine.
All her soul and all her heart,
I control each tender part,
Though she might try to deny it,
Or attempt to redefine it,
The very words she has confessed,
She will always be possessed,
Doesn’t matter from how far,
It’s just how things really are,
These are bonds she cannot break,
She is always mine to take.
Master Jon Grey 5/28/25
Wow, Jon! From the title to the very last word, I love the fierce possessiveness you express here.
I know what I own and what I don’t.
Well damn, possessive much?
Possession laced with obsession…my favorite kind.
Dangerously delicious poetry, Jon.
You should understand obsession well. Possession is a powerful feeling, in the sound of your sigh, the blush you know I can’t see through the monitor, the squirm you make when “temperatures” rise. 😉 “You” being a hypothetical person somewhere.
Grey Man's Memoirs 
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