To Be Hunted

What I wouldn't give to be the hunter's prey.
To feel his gaze upon me as upon him I do gaze.
To know his arrow aims right at my heart.
To see my own blood spill to aid his art.
I long to be the hunter's mark.

To be, just for a moment, his fixation,
And finally break free from our tormenting isolation.
I'd be, in my last moment, wholly happy
To feel the warmth of his desire for me.
If only I could be the hunter's quarry.

Each night I dream of being hunted,
And daily prayer is 'let me be wanted,
Instead of just this wife alone all day.
I'll never feel sweet love from him
So let me feel sweet pain,
And let me be my brutal hunter's prey'

Oh, how I long to be my hunter's prey.