He says i’m beautiful.
i’m dubious.
He says we’ll work on it.
i look in the mirror.
i seem to have changed
and it’s not just the hair.
can beauty blossom
on the shores of sixty?
perhaps. and it helps
not crying every day.
but if i am beautiful,
and i’m hearing it more,
it isn’t really new.
and as my hair lengthened
over all these months
i grew into my self.
i glowed from being owned.
and even as we are
such friends as we are now
the glow is with me still.
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2 comments:
'He says we’ll work on it'
:::panting on edge of seat::
it was a pretty amazing statement, and truly, he is transforming both me and my opinion of myself.
i am so very lucky that he spotted me, pursued me, and captured me. and his quarry was not my body (despite his kind and sincere words) but my mind.
still, my instruction does use BDSM's ability to take advantage of the body's weaknesses to reach desired ends. it's very effective; perhaps he should patent the course.
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