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Leather boots
leather straps
and leather whips
God I love the
way it snaps
when it slaps
naked flesh
the fresh wounds
it causes to
rise like the
morning sun
in Eastern skies
or tears in
tortured eyes
or wetness
in fucked thighs
or volume
in ecstatic sighs
and I wish
for nothing more
than to be
the bastard
to your whore
the Master who
brings the
sea in you
to the shore
of the world
so tell me
who has the
strength
to be Daddies
little girl?
Blue
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