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Click here(a sonnet for the princess, WickedEve)
As dharmic pathways guide my habit's want
I long to train the Eve of wicked's haunt.
Compelled, her form might bend to sapphic will,
But hotly seek I lustful treasure still.
The heart which beats beneath her breasts I see
Lays locked away with fetish-flavored key.
But how it turns if one both likes the pain
To give and to receive without disdain?
Perhaps a tease would bring a fervent blush -
Between her legs, she'd feel a quickened flush.
Then I could kiss the tears of Eve away
As they flowed down her thighs where I could pray.
A kneeling worship bathes the gentle fires
Of dreams that magic brings to burning pyres.