whatever you do,
don't pull my hair, she used
to say,
with a wink.
of course she wanted me
to pull her
hair
and get rough,
and other hijinks.
it's strange the things
you do for love,
hurting the person
you care about most.
a fine line
exists between pleasure
and pain,
she'd say,
purring in her leather
cat suit,
her safe word
being, toast.
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