(With apology to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

How do I adore you? Let me count the ways.

I adore you from the brith of each morning

to the death of each night. You fill the torn

moments of pain with love’s protective light,

kneeling efore me, setting my hear ablaze

by your pur devotion. I am reborn.

Life as a vanilla I shall not mourn.

The kinky life yields broader fields to graze.

Others judge our lifestyle choices harshly,

but we two know the whip is wielded with love

and borne with like desire.