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LEATHER

( a Sestina )
    
Mistress comes, he whimpers, on his back, naked,    
Moist-eyed, face flushed, with fingers digging in.     
Boot heels tap a cadence, I strut slowly 'round,      
Expressionless, observing ev'ry gleaming curve,      
Dragging studded belt down at My side, to brush     
Polished wooden floor beneath his sweating form.      
      
Causing him to twitch with each nerve of his form.  
I stop to look down at his paleness, naked,  
Vulnerable to be touched gently with a brush     
Of leather-glove'ed hand, each finger tight in     
A richly hand-stitched sheath that creaks as they curve     
In shallow hollows of his rise, to wrap 'round.      
      
The boy gasps, his heart leaps, his breath is a brush     
Of exhalation catching, rapid loops 'round.  
The moment, a balance of time held still, in     
Increments of fervent looks and brows that form.    
My crimson mouth, an oath, exposed and naked,      
My serpent's lightning flying in a wide curve.    
      
Its black stud leather flailing bites the naked,     
More than the lack of clothing, to endure in     
Sadist turnings of My corset body 'round,     
To fling Myself against his spine's bare curve.    
My fever's what he wants to serve with the brush     
Of flame, to stoke fire's desire's form.      
        
He presents himself to Me in willing curve,      
To please Me, to reward him his joy, to brush     
Aside his fear, for the love of the boy, naked.      
For My pleasure of leather to come 'round,     
With his hairless sex, and that perfect rare form,  
He stifles a cry as my strappy slides in.  
      
I've got him, I feel him, it shows on his face, to brush     
Into sub space, his flight that weaves 'round,  
Evokes bright flashes of galaxies to float in.  
While Mistress leans in, hard-fucking his form,      
My own space takes Me into him, naked.    
He shudders & comes as I'm wrapped 'round his curve.      
      
The circle's complete where a trust begins, to brush     
Away the webs of doubt, to invoke a bond in     
A life mystical, where W/we're free to be naked.
 
 
 
     
   
This is the first Sestina I've written.    
Like the sonnet, the Sestina dates back to the Middle Ages,        
was adopted by the Italian poets of the Renaissance (Dante and Petrarch),        
and is often used by contemporary poets.
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
Published | Edited 2nd May 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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