
Spank Me, Sir
I have left the door ajar for you to Take a stroll through the gardens of my mind You enter with caution and stride in steps so light That I barely notice you have arrived You saw the lingering fog through the window From the outside, looking in But now you feel its heavy hold Draining light and warmth from the wearied sun Be careful as you navigate the brambles and the thorns I've pricked you one too many times Yet still, you do go on With each instruction, you sweep and clear a path Your choking grip grounds my roots Bringing wilted flowers back to life With each rhythmic swat, you flood my mind Your tender touch lifts the fog As you water-colour over my grey surrounds You enrich with an elixir of pleasure, laced with pain Urging me to let go; to make it rain For only when my tears flow thick and fast Will I finally be free - at very last
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