wrapped up

i wake up with your hand around my neck. it's instinctive, i know. your body pins mine down and holds me in place while you sleep, and your hand snakes it's way around my shoulders and grips my neck, in the half awake gray dawn. you've tied my hands, my legs, i can only move into the positions you want me in, and your hands, your fingers, your mouth, free to roam across my skin uninterrupted. but when your hands reach for me in the middle of the night when it's still black and cold and you move me where you want me, to take what you need and need and need and then again in the morning pulling me backwards to you by the neck and the sensation of that grip never leaves me.

yes, i wear your collar even when it's not visible.