Do you want to see me naked?

Or strip me so I’m cold?

I don’t get it.

Maybe I don’t want to.

Maybe I’m hesitant,

To hear what I’ll be told.

Do you want to prolong it,

and see me hurt,

Or do you feel the need to elongate my suffer?

Each whip,

I get tougher.

And stronger,

And tougher.

You’ll only hear,

“Hit me again.“

“Hit me harder.”

And I can assure you:

I won’t cry,

No, I won’t beg.

Climaxing,

“Oh god, oh, why me.”

No.

Instead,

My vision is on infrared—

I’ll make you the one starved,

parched—

Thirsty.

And from now on,

You’ll only be hearing this:

“Come on, baby, try me—

Charge.”

You’ll be begging the Lord:

Have mercy,

While your soul’s at large.

Read more: A bounty and the bull