Towards Forgiveness

Set to poetic verse, a woman is soundly caned by her lover as she journeys toward forgiveness for an indiscretion committed.

For the wild disgrace

of my lipstick on another’s face

I am to be caned.

There’s nothing I can do about that

except lean forward, my palms flat,

on the seat of a wooden chair,

my face encased in cascading hair.

I cheat, he beats, that’s our rule.

Still, I bless the silk on my bum so cool;

at a vicious swish across that nick

–an inescapable sting!–I gasp and kick.

I want out!

but stiffen at his shout:

‘There’s five more to come!’

Oh! my poor bum!

I ride the next stroke’s bitter pain,

the wood of the chair, the wood of the cane:

one so cool, one so cruel

as it descends on me, again.

Did he say six? it seems more than!

Ow! Ow! Ow! this bloody man

really knows how to tan!

The pools of my eyes,

the pit of my thighs:

two wet, one dank;

at each branding spank

I throb and yell

and go through hell

but tell myself that heaven waits

when the smart abates

and the sting is as a distant bell.

Then his hand will caress my dampened tresses,

his tongue console my warm recesses.

We shall tumble, in the dark, through all our honeyed parts,

towards forgiveness

Love Jane X

copyright (c) 2004 Jane Bayston

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