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Sonnet For A London Mistress

Sent to me by slave P.

Unheard, the traffic flows by sacred door;
Behind my mistress waits in this her realm.
Soon stripped of clothes and self upon her floor,
A cabin boy and mistress at the helm.
She steers to lands unknown to me, her toy
Her room a boundless sea of fear and pain.
But havens there for those seek the joy
Of trusting her to see them cross the main;
And I a seeker once was lost have found
A seer who as she takes me by the hand
And laughs as heart and limbs and mind are bound,
Am proud that I, in word at least, mongst men, can stand
And claim for all of London town to hear
“I am her slave, I have no need to fear”.