The kinky poet
I am just a poet, I write whilst crippled in my bed, from erotica or Vampires and Roses, whatever grows inside my head
Bondage, whipping, floggings, outfits worn for sex roll play, the kinks inside my poetry change from day to day
Tales of abduction, locked up in a dungeon, dark and deep, tales of pretty pussy's and how I love to make them seep
Handcuffs and being tied down, with rope, zip ties and chains, an endless list of fucking styles, that hide deep inside my brain
I also write of sweet romance, of a never ending deeper love, of Angels disguised as mere mortals, sent from high above
Tales full of passion and sexual games so full of lust, relationships between Dom and Subs and how they're built on trust
So I thought I was just a poet, who wrote poems about the thoughts I think, it seems there's more than that to me, I'm a poet with a kink
T.K.P.