Although I love diamonds, gold and fine art, none beat a poem to touch my cold heart….
To His Cruel Mistress (After Andrew Marvell)
By slave s
If I had wealth enough and time,
My freedom I should count a crime,
For, oh, what bliss it is to feel,
The pricking of stiletto heels,
A cold caress from tight steel bands,
Or Mistress Malice’s elegant Hands.
The warm sweet sun I could forgo,
For darker pleasures I have known.
Earth’s richest king knows not the joy
It is to be a Belledame’s toy.
Two hours are not enough to praise
Your mocking smile and scornful gaze.
Who would wander at his ease,
When his mistress he might please?
Like to a hunger never sated
I find my freedom overrated.