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.