Chattel

In the half light of the evening
It moves, draws your eye,
Hidden under rubbish, lost
A time ago

Stop, look closely.
It lives and breathes.
Take it in your hand and
Feel, explore the shape, the softness.
Pinch it, make it respond to your gentle touch,
To your firm command.

Take it.
Undress it, wash it,
Anoint it with oils and lotions
Let it sleep for a while between clean sheets.
Dreams carry the truth into day

Morning bathes the room with sunlight.
She wakes and sees a brave new world.
The mirror shows
A stranger’s face and body.
She weeps in ecstasy, she cannot bear to see the sun,
She fears like Semele to burn to ash.

Help her find herself.
Be cruel, take her beyond the point where
She would rest comfortably
Wrapped in existing self knowledge.

Show her the darkness of her soul
And find her light

Give her tasks
For you?
Correct her when she fails.
She is precious, valued
And willingly enslaved, bound and
Owned

Watch her grow, bound to you by virtual chains,
Stronger than the finest steel.
Chains that set her free

Torment her, leave her
So she aches and pleads for mercy,
For your care.
Return,
She will learn that you were always there.

She is yours, your chattel and your willing slave
Your work has bound you now
You are her Master
Her future under your control.