Marquisade

If God be Love, and Love be kind indeed,
then isn't He the God of tender mercies?
Dispense then with your virtue. Let's proceed
with pleasing Him. I've had enough of curtsies,
of furtive glances and of deeper sighs --
an abbess would be proud of your resolve.
But hunger, real hunger's in your eyes,
a hunger no confessor could absolve.
Shall I then be the shepherd, you the sheep?
Or would you rather have me in the saddle
and let love run its course, so very deep.
Perhaps you're not a stranger to the paddle,
lips reddened by another kind of rush?
A slap? Oh well, at least I've made you blush.

Author notes: Prompt 1