A gentle touch, she sways. The ropes creak overhead. The chill breeze makes goosebump skin and carries the wet earth scent of last night's rain.

  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.