Consented Trauma

The start and the end were clear to see, the situation supposedly familiar; in that, peace is found. The journey through however, the details hazy; the mouth betrays the mind. The room was dark, not blindingly so, features were clear to see; actions shaded, shamed and unsure, but still they do endure. No chair to be tied to, nor bonds to be broken, just an intimate scene played out; admirer and subject, a world of their own, time inconsequential. Freedom to leave, or so it would seem, the door was a mere mile near. Protections removed, boundaries crossed, punctuated with the affirmative. One word, one mistake, one cue misread; no rewinds.

Time has passed and time again, agreed to dance the dance. Rose tinted shards, glass long since shattered, hindsight clearer now.