A Poem for Mistress Lynne

Dearest Mistress Lynne,

Today was unlike yesterday,

there i sit.

Dishevelled and crumpled,

a paper soldier imapled on his musket.

crumpled and stained by the sun,

my person bare,

my small cock boblng like a dandylion,

skin dried and sore,

brittle like parchment paper.

reverberating throughout me,

purpose enters my atmosphere.

satlellites triangulate,

haze lifted.

instruction has come from most high,

Goddess beckons.

imparted upon me,

celestial incandescence.

posture straightens,

winds upon the prairie,

growl impatiently.

petals across the portrait,

fur of the forgotten and unneessary.

clack!

like knife to a cutting board,

you reverberate.

goosebumps arise,

my body a colony,

of freshly sprung curiosity.

your trenchoat flapping,

a cowl of justice in the dusk.

a slight peck on my neck,

your familar,

yet loving scorn,

fervently impatient.

longingly,

i pass you your merlot.

you grin,

as only you can.

not unlike vlad,

the veins of the vineyard,

flowing down your jaw.

to serve my mistress is to give me purpose,

she allows me to breathe.

so that i might drown again.

within her juices,

and the sweat of my brow.

i breathe,

only to sip from your tide,

my Goddess.

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One thought on “A Poem for Mistress Lynne

  1. These are my favorite four lines…. beautiful.

    “to serve my mistress is to give me purpose,

    she allows me to breathe.

    so that i might drown again.

    within her juices,”

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