she’s feeling unmoored
undone
not knowing if she’s awake
or caught in the web she’d spun
seeking solace in her thoughts,
she pensively weaves
threads of happiness and laughter
and sweet deceit
until he comes,
unsuspecting
caught in the lies she tells,
unrelenting
in her need for submission
to his desires
until he rules her heart
and quenches her fires
As a writer, I do research…lots of research, and so when I saw this prompt, the only thing that came to mind had to do with my current research into the world of kink. I tried to think of other types of punishments to go with a nice weekend prompt, but it was a no-go. So BDSM it is, or what little I’ve learned so far about it.
One of the things that really struck me in my current research, and maybe this comes with understanding things better as I grow older, is the concept of punishment in kink. Punishment in the world of kink involves consent and this is what is most interesting to me because the punishment I remember in the real world involves no consent at all.
I remember when I was a kid growing up in the Philippines, if we did something bad, we got spanked. My mom, aunts, and grandparents would get really creative in punishing, not just me, but all of us, especially during the summers when all the kids probably drove them crazy for we congregated like flies to honey – honey, being wherever trouble brewed. And so they got creative with the instruments used for spanking us while we, the kids, got tougher and laughed at their attempts to make us cry. Their favorite became the handle of a feather duster and I guess here, you’d call it a switch (?). It stung like hell when they’d hit the back of our legs and then we’d all compare our battle scars for the day, our minds defaulting to the idea that while it’s bad, we’ll consider it fun. How many lashes did one get versus the other? Are the marks visible? How long before they’d fade away?
This is where research and memory, as much as they appear to come together, also become two separate concepts…
In kink, there is punishment, yes, but there is also consent to be punished. And it takes two – the one giving and the one receiving, and thus consent for both is required. I have to consent to punish you if that’s what you want, and vice versa, I have to give my consent for you to punish me. I know it’s simplistic but I’m also looking at this from an outsider’s point of view although I’m always ready to learn more.
And it’s this dynamic that is most interesting to me as a writer because I always want to know what makes people tick. I’m the person who’ll drive you crazy with the why’s and the how’s. And if you’re wondering what this research on kink is for, it’s for a book that I was supposed to release this year but didn’t because this was the part of the theme that I got stuck on – punishment…and its corresponding consent.
it’s the yearning that hits me the worst
when all I think about is you
what you’re doing, where you are –
are you thinking of me?
and in the silence
that follows, should
i believe
what i
see?
he yearns for her
like she were the spaces
between each breath,
knitting the air
with her smiles,
his heart in tune with her every sigh
and moan,
where there lie only desperation
and desire
his hand traces
the scars on her skin
left there so long ago
a faint line here, followed by another,
then another in a row
no judgment in his eyes,
only acceptance
over the things
that he knows
i see you, he tells her,
though i’ll never know
the things you yearned
to scream then
but i hear them –
each scar telling him
their story
from each beginning
to each end.
why do you love me?
she asks
as he runs his fingers
through her hair
is it my submission
that turns you on?
or is it the power
you hold
over our sweet affair?
you hold the power,
he says to her
with a look,
a safe word
there’s nothing that I do
that’s ever meant
to hurt you
for nothing between us
is ever blurred
This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine
9
she doesn’t have to tell him
that she loves it
when he tells her
the things he wants her to do
when every command he utters
she follows
when his every command
sends her to the places
only he knows
*This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine
7
early mornings
before the sun rises
she burrows beneath
the covers
to wake him
taking him between full lips
she beckons him
awake and so hard
within
*This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine
3
do you trust me?
he asks me
do you trust me to know
when to stop?
do you trust
yourself
to tell me
when you’ve had enough
when that last one was
too much?
do you think
you can let go
of the fears that hold you down?
do you trust me to know
when you’ve reached
that limit
by just a look, a whimper,
or that furrow
on your brow?
so let yourself go,
come, rest your head
on my chest.
there’s more to come for your pleasure
so lay back down
and let’s you undressed
bare to each other, bare to the bone
bare to the truth
that we’re together and alone
*This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine
2
he dominates me
because i let him
he dominates me
because that’s what he is –
a man who treasures me
and loves me,
who knows me so well,
he lays out
my darkest fears
but lest you think
he can do whatever he wants
it’s with my consent
that he can
dominate my heart
that yearns for submission
with a look, a kiss,
even the sweet sting
of a firm hand
*This is for National Poetry Month, where I’m writing on a theme. Inspired by Álvaro de la Herrán‘s video for GQ Spain called Mine
