Written by: Cyndi MacMillan

The dark walls shake in apartment nine o nine,

Nine Inch Nails blares as bodies bump and grind.

Nine wrappers lie about and not the food kind,

Dregs remain of a bottle of Block Nine wine,

Wrists tug nine loose knots, that supple leather binds,

She has followed his nine rules, a dozen times,

This cool silk against her eyes, truly doesn’t blind,

Lost in lessons, yet parts of herself she finds,

As he nips her neck, bends her willing spine. 

*A wee touch of 50 Shades for you ... ;-)

Written Jan 12 2013