Seven Of Nine
It has to be said, sweet Seven-Of-Nine,
You’re in my head: infatuation.
And if only I could I’d make you mine –
indulge my physical fascination:
I’d start at the top, and work my way down,
and where it would stop I’m not really sure.
I’d keep on going till I almost drown,
always knowing that I’d be back for more.
I’d loose myself; be consumed by you;
the ultimate stealth: to be deep inside.
Waiting, breathless, to hear those words from you:
“Resistance is useless; You must comply.”
And maybe in time something more would come
if Seven-Of-Nine could be two as one.