The Dancer

A blank, pert canvass,

Save for that studded collar

And….. striking tattoo.

Pink rose petals surround

Two bold boots, alone

In the spotlight; calling?

Ballet tights envelop

Strong, thick legs,

Pumps slide on

Studded black cuffs,


A gimp mask and white pants

Complete the arrayal.

A horny prince scampers,

Strikes a pose.

The boots remain,

Silent but calling.

Flat against the wall

Posing like some punter

In a basement bar,

Graceful but desiring.

No less, and

No more masculine.

A man torn for

 A moment of freedom.

Boots on, tights off

Tights on, boots off

All off

He falls, and rises

And rolls, sweats sheen

Smears, as

Crawling, naked,

The leather boots

 Are licked.

Moistened, left

Glistening like,

An obsidian cock.