20 May 2012
A pound of flesh for your pleasure, bite down harder for my pain. This morbid, sensual treasure, a knife blade from insane.
The beatings and the bruises, a reminder of the hurt. But the pleasure is a treasure, as with danger we both flirt.
I love it when you hate me, as you hate me to love you. Our embrace a deformation, of a loving point of view.
Lost in the translation, found within our sin. Beat me, bite me, whip me, tie me, and let the games begin.
Lovers Games • Opuss № I