She wants you to run your hand in it and grab a fist full.
You hear her heels clicking slowly down the hallway?
She wants your to hear her and follow her
To that empty conference room being remodelled.
All her dresses stop at the same length just peeking the side of her thigh
Begging for your hands to push her down on the table
And slide your hands up.
She smiles and lowers her head every time she sees you.
Not from being shy.
But because she calls you master in her soul.
The red ribbon around her neck
Is more acceptable in the office than the black leather choker
engraved with your name that she keeps at home.
The red ribbon, the red heels, is not her sign of confidence
It is the power she wants to give you
Take her Soul, take her breath, take her hair, take her neck
Pull it, Squeeze it.
When you walk buy her desk, you have no idea how she stares.
She breathes you and you will never know
I swear she collects these snap shots of you
Then goes home and releases to you.
The air we breathe is not the air she breathes
You're her red, you're her master
You're everywhere for her
You're her red air.
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