Ropes, Belts and Love

Sonal Gupta

Tied up in nylon ropes, frayed at the ends

The weary leather belt touches my thigh

Memories of pain numb my mind

I gasp, waiting, splayed across the bed

like a canvas, untouched, blank.

The smoke from your cigarettes

Sinks the room in a blanket of haziness

Your eyes meet mine and I almost smile,

Instead, I blush the colour of the pink lingerie

Flung across the room,

Mocking my nakedness from afar.

Your fingers torment my flesh,

Like a sculptor upon a lump of clay,

Moulding me into shapes,

that perfectly fit the hollows of your hand.

Your teeth sink into my flesh,

Marking bloody patterns on my neck.

A whimper escapes my lips,

only to be silenced, by your fingertips.

The belt cracks through the air,

I wait for the sting that never comes,

Instead, you fill me up, like a vessel left out in rain,

Brimming,

bursting,

spilling.