Delicate dove in your hands,
You encourage my flight.
Warm lanterns in the shadows,
A gentle keeper of my love.
Through restraints of passion,
True colours shine
Painting, etching, sculpting…
My body your eternal canvas
Your ropes a medium of your love,
An expression of your desire.
In your hands,
I hurt, I melt, I love, I sigh, I hang, I cry.
Your tight grip,
Like a warm embrace on my soul
Harks the moment of transcendence,
Freeing me from my corporeal bindings.
I can see you clearly; in spirit.
Brilliant light; enveloping.
Every rotation, fold, tie, twist,
Speaks more than a thousand words.
Interpreters of inspiration,
We speak a common language:
‘The beauty of tight binding.’
The Muse of your musings,
I humbly accept the offerings at my feet.
With spread legs, and eager hands,
My body is yours to please and cherish.
Tickle me with your tongue,
Reach into the depths of my being,
To gently release me into your world.