Chains tinkle like windchimes as they stretch up to a ceiling unseen in the dark
from arms held high above flowing crimson locks
A spotlight coldly draws focus
on the straining nymph
Cool air calls forth goosebumps on tan tender flesh
while the soft sound of water drips echo on concrete
Blue eyes dart with hope
to pierce the black
They give up their tears
in lazy trails, smearing dark shadow down freckled cheeks
then onto pert breasts trembling
with balance precariously held
as legs spread wide with shackles bound
cannot hold her weight much longer
please and
why me she
she queries the void
this special nymph most ripe
Her soft petals quiver, a flower most precious
flourished by her stance
From behind a hand reaches
fingers press firm
her vulnerable center stretched beyond comfort
Because you are perfect
answers the void
