Beating Flowers

Craving the sound of
leather meeting flesh
or the feel of a large
hand landing loudly
gripping tightly
producing whimpers and
wetness that flow unheeded
as strike after strike rains
down like a hurricane
and in the aftermath
I'll see the beating flowers
bloom in red and purple
in the field of pale
freckled skin to
be harvested and adored
until it's time to
plant the next bouquet
on worthy skin

© Leaena 2015