- Erotic Poetry
- Taut Rope
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Taut Rope
It is as though you are lacing up a statue.
I watch, holding still for you.
First my left arm is ringed,
You drape your rope across my shoulders
And You ring the rope around my right.
Pull
My posture your bound pleasure.
Around and under you coil
A pattern
I become a fleshy tapestry
Of your inclinations
My breasts in taut rope
Shape shifted
For your pleasure.
Once ago I would have perceived
A woman objectified
And found it insulting.
You in the half light
Arcing a distant cast glance
Over the whole of me.
From across the room
Square faced stare down
I will not look away
As you consider your handiwork.
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