14 Ways We Could Fail at BDSM
Tie you up with silly string. Let it melt.
Whip you with a fan belt and expect you to rev.
Overemphasis on techne; much fuss, much muss.
Truss you like a turkey. (You’re vegetarian.)
Tell you I’m suppose[b]ly a top. (You’re also a grammarian.)
Tell me you don’t even like kissing before our lips have bled.
Stop wandering when we’ve finally nailed down a second-best bed.
Cut up our respective DSM entries into sexual prompts and draw from a hat— wait, that might be hot. Dada. Forget that traumas transmogrify suddenly—crack of an invisible whip.
Forget that a mother can father-figure a flagrant fag.
Dishwash the cheap plastic purple ball gag. Let it melt.
Sound off like greedy babies denied the long lovely latch.
Strike us not against a brick wall. Forget that’s how we match.