deep song

the knots were nicely made,
tighter than usual.
she wondered if i liked them
and of course i did, so
she pulled her hat down
to just above her raw eyes
and entered into her gypsy world.
she started to dance the flamenco and cante jondo
on my back, where my hands stayed tied.
being unable to stand, i arched my eyebrows
to the click of her heels beating into my skin.
in our summer heat, she tossed her clothes
during the prolonged spanking of my whimpering ass.
i wanted to take notes of the minutest details of her technique,
but she swallowed my material, and so i never
learned the flamenco, although i know why her dress was red.
which is all the more reason for me to learn how to sing.