Perception

Stop up my mouth. Switch off
the apologies and the nervous
chatter. The words that come when
I can’t stand to be silent. When I’m
waiting, in anticipation, and fear.
Turn it into a hole, for fingers or
cock. Your spit. Make me take
you thumb, let my tongue helplessly
lathe at it, my lips quiver in frustration.
Give me something to bite down on
when your hand and your tools
turn my flesh to shades of pink
and purple. Stretch my cheeks,
make drool slide down my chin.
Make me uncomfortable. Make me
suffer for your pleasure. Gag me.
I’m begging you.