(Self) Possession

I walk toward him,

and he turns with a smile of greeting.

We talk and walk, 

the world shifting and sighing around us,

seeming to part for our passage,

like it was made to be intact,

and we are causing this rift, this shift, 

this new alignment of stars.

I say the words that are expected,

smile and nod,

but inside 

there are butterflies bouncing around in a pattern I can't follow.

I say the right words,

despite the ones charging through my mind in lurid colors, 

pulsing with lust.

He pauses, holds the door for me,

and we ride an elevator straight up into the sky.

The silence spreads out to fill the small box,

and I try not to see myself in the mirrors that are all around.

He reaches out, 

presses a button,

and our ascent is halted.

A snag in my breathing

as he fluidly moves from reaching for that button

to reaching for

me.

I am pressed against the reflection behind me,

his face so close to mine that his beard brushes my chin.

There is no force behind his words,

they are a summer breeze on my cheek -

Are you ready?

I remember to inhale.

Will you follow my lead, no questions asked?

I nod, wide-eyed.

I feel the gentleness of his question,

but the shiver that runs down my spine

comes from the depth of authority that I feel is rooted in him 

like the beginning of time,

the laws of physics, 

and my loyalty, forever.

Good,

he grins and resumes our ascent,

pulling out his phone to tap out one more email 

as he leans against the far wall.

My heart races the elevator to the ceiling of this tall structure

where I make all the arguments I'd prepared.

We end the meeting with handshakes 

and talk of contracts being drawn up, faxed over, etc.

We are in a full elevator on the way back down.

I can see his eyes reflected in one of the mirrors 

(if I look over the shoulder of the man in the deep blue suit

whose cologne is nearly gagging me),

and I focus on them.

We settle back into the dark, smooth interior 

of the car that delivered us.

He on a phone call, 

me making notes to run by our legal department 

before they review those contracts we just negotiated.

When the car glides to a stop,

I reach for my door handle 

and hear a soft click as he presses the lock button.

Follow,

he reminds, gently,
and I see one corner of his mouth twitch with an almost-smile.

One question,

I smile and lean toward him

(maybe aware that this produces a perfect view of perfect cleavage).

Starting now...?

He nods - part indulgence, part scolding.

Now, no more questions.

A thrill runs through me at the prospect of releasing
all of my personal decisions to his judgement.
I will do everything he says,
nothing more,
nothing less.

He holds the reins
and my heart thrums with the adrenaline rush of possibilities. 

I perch at the edge of my seat,

my nerves as tight as violin strings,

just waiting for him to make the first command 

and pull exquisite notes from deep inside me.