Sexual-Incantation.

Twas on a bed of thorns that she lay,
Bowing to sexual-deluge, and decay, 
Suspended by silken strands 
with my hands at her throat, 
She was catatonic, a stoic, and betrayed. 
Her exalted breaths, 
stumbled at my command, 
Her eyes summoned slumber, 
I released, and she drifted away.
Her mouth was dry, 
her skin dotted with ecstacy, 
our door was marked, 
she was plagued, 
I her priest,
and she my slave.