bored apparently
with our long marriage
and pedestrian
love making,
tells me
one day that we
need to mix
it up a little.
so when i come
home from
work the next day
she's wearing a leather
outfit,
standing tall in six
inches of stiletto heels
and holding
a whip,
and a pair of silver handcuffs.
i set my brief
case down
and loosen my tie, then
find a cold
box of Chinese food
in the fridge,
so what's up?
i ask her as i put it
into the microwave.
hopefully
you are, she says,
snapping the whip at me.
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