Bind if you must my mouth,
for with my lips I could cool
your interest quickly should I choose.
But dear to stop my hands
would be a dreadful loss;
no rope or silken cord
should thwart what
these small hands can do.
Across your back my fingers
speak words of their own.
Let the binding go,
the sweet trust that might ensue,
instead unloose my wrists.
For duct tape find another use.
Sue Scalf
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