Thresholds

It could be some random click,
Metal to metal in the dark,
An accidental sound that marks
The rougher encircling like licks
Of tongue on suede,
Persuading
hips to arc
Starkly.

Across the shifted boundaries
Steps the novice, kneeling,
Head shy and bowed
But keening, whispering
With pleading sighs
For pleasures rampant,
Flesh endowed with metamorphic
Spirit.

Freed, yielding by moment,
The acolyte bends to Another Will
And tastes surrender like sugared
Honey from the hive
Or is it just imagining?