Twisted stalks waive the fetid air
Puffed breadth forced out of lungs
Glasses coifed, lick her sliding down
Mugs painted and fire blooms
Paneful looks, with haunted eyes
In the debts of the Nose and the knots
poetry month
The wheel turns
So I have a new Submissive. It’s online only at this point. She is an amazing person and new to being a sub. I’m pleased I get to be the one to play with and teach her. Ideally we would do this in person. But needs must. It’s the reason I Have been happy and as a corollary unable to write poetry. I’m working on that and need to be able to by April. Poetry month otherwise know as the Bataan death march of poetry. A poem a day, plus normal posts. It was hard as hell last year, lets see how it is this year. I may up it to 2 poems a day since I have been writing so prolifically. But my sub is amazing. I tried being vanilla for awhile. I was miserable. She is game for anything and I appreciate that. She is a beautiful creature and I’ll smack the shit out of anyone that says otherwise. My miss, you are mine. And that makes me happy.
