Her spine defines her boundaries,
amazement crawling lustily
down around her vertebrae
to wind her up in arms until
he's always on her mind.

And then she wakes away
from anything aware,
reminiscing into accidental honesty,
but honestly,
how far gone is gone
when she dons her memories
in retribution for a hurt she can't conceal
until she deals the cards again
in her favor.

But he's a perfect recompensement
for everything she isn't,
all the nonsense she endures
beneath her collarbone,
every simply sentimental thought
she still refuses to condone,
fingers dancing ever shameless
to leave her reticent and blameless
but still entirely accountable
for ever selfish declination.

Now he stands merciful and waits,
wraps languid promises 'round her waist
and listens to her banter,
knowing she'll never win;
hands restrained but entertained
until he tires of her games,
there's going to be a day when
he will ask her to give in
to their desire so insistent,
so simplistic
in its carnal domination.

And then she'll fall.