Enslaved

by R.H. Nicholson

Her mercurial musings

untethered me

as we lay

in the after urgency

her hair knit up

in my fingers

beating breast

to heaving chest

skin stuck

to sweaty sheets

my spillage

dripping.

If she sent me

to the mountain

I would

climb

if she ordered ocean

I would

swim

if she whispered

murder

I would

squeeze the trigger

if she

set me aside

I would be

satisfied.