This Power Has No Color

Giving up one's power, With emotions shown... To another let known, Their emotions... That one other alone, Can take control over. No longer does it matter, One's color of skin. Eyes. Texture of hair or physique. The difference is, A position given that began... Whether dominant, Or submissive. In a relationship. To satisfy and please who it is, Determined to get... What is ultimately wished. And... Left to feel that excitement. Of a performance to expect. Regardless, If it is perceived... Who is giving up what to get, Is made to receive. Judged on presence. And not ability. To be in control... Of everything, They choose to do to know... Who it is that has the power. And who from them, Never doubts. To misunderstand. Where they get the power, That keeps them turned on. Hoping not to be turned off, To make shown and known... There is always that 'someone', Who does what they do... Like no one else can. Secretly. Behind locked doors. Listening to whispers to moan, As quietly as passion allows!