The pretty mistress is totally unsympathetic towards me –
the pathetic, drenched, public humble head. She still expects me to kiss her
boots in the pouring rain. And rightly so!
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| She emerges from the rain, wearing a protective hoodie |
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| 'You're gonna kiss my boots, slave!' |
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| 'Yes, mistress madam. At once, mistress madam.' |
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| She looks down upon me unsympathetically as my pathetic, menial mouth lip-respects her rain-dampened boot |
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| I am acutely conscious of her pale grey bootsock-top towering over me as I kiss her booted foot |
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| I look up to the sock - both literally and figuratively! |
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| I am pathetically particularly enamoured by a thick crease in the sock just below the bootrim! |
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| Oh to know how long these socks have been on her feet inside these boots! |
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| But, when it comes to a stranger-customer's socks, I can look, but not ask! |
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| Maybe if she were a regular customer I could venture such a pathetic, impertinent question! |
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| But, when it comes to this young woman - a complete stranger to me - I must observe a slavishly silent respect |
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| She too remains silent, though not out of respect for me... |
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| ...but out of contempt... |
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| ...the righteous contempt reserved by a superior being for an inferior! |
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| I dare to look up at the backs of her departing socks... |
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| ...since I am, pathetically, in love with them! |
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| The boots and socks of a goddess! |
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| Oh that I could be worthy to follow them home to heel! |
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| But I must remain here like a drenched rat whilst her departing boots contemptuously splash my face with yet more dirty rainwater! |
