Callisto's Game

A shed tear and stifled cry, senses numb, dark devoured.
Soft caress of scorching fire, descending cold.
Icy embrace of steel still foreign, expectancy ever increasing.
That moment of pure liberation, always denied.

Now my mind drifts to home,
Tender places I yearn to be some times.
Can’t help feeling so lost and feeble.
Participant in the game she plays.

Resounding echoes, commands to obey, subservient to this charade.
Crimson streaks, a copper drop, ever caressing, never ceasing.
Spiralling closer to delightful delirium, entombed and bound to her fantasy.
Slow release from the grip of ecstasy to the echoes of O.

Slowly the clarity returns to my mind.
Reminding me of all the senses I left behind.
The game now ends with just one word.
Though Callisto’s mark forever remains.