| The ropes are tight, her skin so white she whimpers and she moans and the sunlight, golden bright warms through to her bones. she hears the street, the traffic beat outside her pane of glass and the sunlight heat, so complete illumes her lovely ass. (Observing me, do people see the shame and, oh, the pride? Do they know that He has thus freed me and the longings deep inside?) Until tonight, the ropes so tight constrict her, bind her so And then He might (yes, He might) untie and let her go. and once let go, He'll hold her close and soothe the angry weals; with a soft touch that shows how much He cares for what she feels. With gentle care He'll stroke her hair, and calm her racing heart; deep into night by candle light they'll practice Venus' art. |