Spilled Ink from the Vault

You are mine. 
We both know this, and yet
for all the power you offered me
there are two last bastions of control:
you say I own your pleasure and yet hold back
your release, and whilst you freely admit
you’ll never find a connection this priceless elsewhere,
you still think it’s acceptable 
to ask me to play second fiddle
when we both know I am the best damn soloist
you’ve ever heard. 
I’d like to update an old adage. It’s said:
if you love them, let them go,
but honestly, if you know your worth, 
let them go. You are mine, 
but I am not yours, because you
didn’t have the sense to hold on to what you found,
and I have the sense to let you go. 
A Queen doesn’t beg.