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Click hereAre fifty shades of gray enough to show
the nuance of the marks upon your hips
and there's no red room - is that such a blow:
can you make do with less exotic trips?
So walk up to my door. Your heartbeat skips
two beats, before you lift your hand and knock
to find no bloodied chamber: passing ships
will not be sunk or capsized by the shock.
It's simple and straightforward: do not block
reality with the obscure. Incline
yourself across my desk. Let me just lock
the door from all intrusion. We have time.
There's time to cane you hard; there's time to say
your gracious thanks - our fifty shades aren't gray.
beautiful Spenserian sonnet! Entering the unknown may conjure up images of Bluebeard before your eyes...
doling out punishment and pleasure, TK U MLJ LV NV
reality with the obscure. Poetry however seldom does. Well written! :)