Poem: Dominatrix, Doyenne, Shaman

She held fast to truth, this
Grim taskmaster, serving
Lashes to the mendacious,
And kisses to the veracious.

And all wanted to serve her,
Uncovering the wounds of
Brutal honesty, one kick to the
Crotch or messy cuddle at a time.

No one asks for enlightenment
In a Dungeon until the dominatrix
Shines through moral fog and
Removes both fear and reticence.

And secrets are sloughed off
As the previously damned
Rise shamelessly to a loving
Embrace they can’t refuse.

She’s crushed the ball gag
Under her heel so you can
Finally speak. So you can
Finally say your “peace.“

woman in black top standing beside wall
Photo by Pouria Teymouri on Pexels.com

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