With arms tightly folded

her hourglass silhouette lay there,

just as the hour softly turned

time was nearly out.

On knees to broken palms

he did everything to get to her,

the words he whispered had no affect.

She was tight lipped and in control,

he asked if she were ready

stepping forward and offered a kiss

softly to her shoulder, nothing happened.

With more weight weighing him down

there was a sweet smelling scent

the girl and her tepid perfume

her skin glistened lightly.

Eyes were hard to adjust

at this time of night

the true intentions of his want

he wanted nothing more

than to simply wake her.

A glass vase lay smashed

on an already swept floor

by the previous attempts.

Careful not to walk barefoot

there was no real choice,

he had to wake the girl.

Her room has been waiting for centuries

the candles have totally burnt out.

There under a shimmering blanket

the prized girl lay quietly still.

Asleep for one hundred years

a curse to make her immortal.

A heavy hand pinched super hard.

Aroused by this stunning reversal,

all her wishes came down to this kiss,

he put his mouth to hers.

Instantly, she was jolted awake,

his eyes laid heavily in hers.

Still, he leaned in and kissed her harder

the room spun her fully awake.

Her throat could only manage a whisper

a prized single word she mouthed,

“Sir.”

5 Replies to “The Claiming”

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