- Erotic Poetry
- Twenty One Inches
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Twenty one perfect inches,
Between ankles,
Bare feet spread apart
On hotel carpet, heels lifted
From behind, she measures up
Then down reaching to rub
The rope burn she admires
From temporary thigh restraint
Next the shallow groove circling
Her waist, a slight chain shaped
Dent above her brown hips
Thin fingers travel the tracks
Only on promise of a blindfold
Three roses with thorns
On a bed with satin sheets
And two strangers
Would she show the mark
Of her previous evenings event
Looping two tiny nooses of her
Own knotting upon stiff nipples
Tugging with encouragement
Relaxing with the exit of the
Strangers
Having spent their handfuls
