this poem, a French kyrielle, was part of a writing exercise called Iron Poet. A friend gave me three mystery words -- Master, love, climax -- and i wrote the poem around the words.

offertory

For love of Thee, I offer all
in answer to Thy quiet call
Thy plaything will I gladly be
if, Master, such might pleasure Thee.

In saucy skirt, or frock demure
emboldened by my thoughts impure
I drape, just so, across Thy knee
if, Master, such might pleasure Thee.

Sweet climax, at Thy whim, denied
while, limbs stretched taut, soft thighs spread wide,
I moan and writhe for all to see
if, Master, such might pleasure Thee.

I serve Thee at Thy brusque command;
lie pliant 'neath Thy teasing hand
for this night, or eternity
if, Master, such might pleasure Thee.

- elyse