Feasts

I wonder whether visual feasts exist:
Let's see if I can't repress the impulse
To blindfold you and then harshly insist
You spread and show and offer; I'll repulse
Sadistic inclination, if you'll share
The secrets that were hidden; let's reveal
Your treasures - that's it - strip - I want you bare
And bent and greased and ready; then I'll seal
Your certainties; so, in the blackout, quiver
And grimace, as I penetrate your need;
That's it, you tease, I'll surely have you shiver
In such anticipation at the creed,
I'll whisper in your ear, until I've ceased
To fuck all you can't see - a hidden feast.