Smite with looks of mischief…
shiver in naked abandon

who cares less than me?

the rhythm of pulse, beneath
that shivering skin, colors
your cheeks, the sounds
in lustful torment

either way

soon, things will change

*

these silk ribbons

ties back your hair
such fancy and flair
around your collar
sits silent and waiting

*

a tip of a tongue 
may turn the lick
into another split

will you follow?

*

steps lightly
into ropes

feathers
embrace
inside