Exploring this land and soaking in every experience are constants. Aged nearly a half century, I have recorded many events in verse, always striving to recall specific details. Having never publicly shared ink, this is a new endeavor.
He shows her the bottle oil from olives, extra virgin fucking loves the reminder of what she most definitely is not
as she lies before Him ankles bound by heavy rope stretches to top left corner post anchors this perfect little filthy whore hands cuffed to a wide black leather waist belt
head tilts back beyond lower right corner tresses dangle, suspended above the tile floor eyes wide open, she watches as the reminder drizzles along a pulse induced twitching cock, rises upward with each beat
for many it will never be more than sheer fantasy they possess not the ability to commit and create reality
creativity resides within our complex organ, the human brain a close but distant neighbor of physical need, where action remains hidden, to those who prove most difficult to train it is said, others just get wet while some feel the rain
Methinks a multitude wish to know the joy of discipline whether they demand or submit, it is carnal expression worth expressing, and not a pleasure one should pretend I say, indulge Me...