Illusions of the temporal cortex
cluttering up My mind.
overbearing feeling losing track of time.
ropes, cuffs or tied with flowering vines.
baring your soft skin upon the cross in My mind
with roses and lace in a flowering moment of time
with the leather in limbo in mid stoke hanging with this rhyme
the thrashing upon your back the welts and pleasure it leaves every time
the floating in to subspace you in yours, Me in mine.
blocking out the world chained to a moment in time
the baring of both souls .trust, loyalty and honor upon the cuffs
inscribed… Scott baker
