A Paradelle

I wrote this poem a while ago, and am moving it from my DeviantArt account to here for easy finding on request (!) This is a paradelle. Read the link! Paradelles are great and everyone should try them.

(A request! A real unfished-for request! Best Christmas present ever!)

To The Mistress’s Mistress

My love is not the mistress of my heart,
My love is not the mistress; of my heart
She plays a chained guardian, to me.
She plays a chained guardian to me.
My love is chained to my heart, she plays
A mistress to, not the guardian of, me

Her hands upon my back are corset-tight.
Her hands upon my back are corset-tight,
And, like those strings, pull with intimate strength.
And like those strings pull with intimate strength
Those hands pull intimate strings back upon
My corset, tight with strength, and are like her.

Should ladies be curious of our parlour games?
Should ladies be curious of our parlour games,
As private as the gossip of their maids,
(As private as the gossip of their maids)
Our private games should be as maids,
Curious of parlour gossip as their ladies.

Chained to my hands, my mistress upon her back;
The corset strings are as tight as love is.
The curious strength, pull of gossip: a guardian
Not of my – our – private heart.
She plays me like those parlour games,
And ladies should be intimate with their maids.

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