Haiku pop up in my Twitter from time to time (there’s even some on here), but actual verse with actual rhymes and actual metres and all that actual poem shizzle is much rarer.
A question I have been asked a few times is: “How do you hide the marks?” Well, the answer is: “I’m bloody careful!” I hate having to hide my kink and the evidence of it. However, I enjoy the many compensations of my life and its “best of both worlds” characteristic.
Hey, Honey, do you miss my bum?
Or even know it’s gone.
You saw it last a year ago,
do you not find that rum?
It’s tucked away in boxer shorts,
where once I left it free.
You’ve seen the rest; Yes, ALL the rest
but not this part of me.
I worry that one day I’ll turn
and give you quite a fright;
my butt all marked by whips and canes
is not a pretty sight!
My Mistress is the cause of them;
she beats my arse so hard.
But only ‘cos I ask her to
‘cos that’s the way I’m wired.
The marks are not there all the time
but only now and then.
Easier to always hide my bum
than to remember them.
I bet you’ve missed it all this time,
I think that’s quite a shame.
I’ll turn round now, give you a glimpse,
then hide it once again.
For the avoidance of doubt (and flushes): this is not a selfie!