St. Valentine in chains.

Trapped upon the bosom of inequity,
I shun thoughts of cupid and his dismal frigidity. 
Instead,
I shall ascend to Eros' bed-chamber, 
to embrace lust-vicariously, as it’s stranger.
And make notes, to effect an engager
Until,
From my lofted perch, I shall spy,
A fair maiden held entranced in the night sky,
I shall, as an apprentice ought to, 
act suave, sophisticated and with fortitude,
I'll suggest a tasting menu, 
lay down the linen, and make place for you, 
Once satisfied with your selection, 
a bold choice, your predilection.
I shall summon you to dine, 
and reveal your phantasies intention. 

Shall I bring out the first course? I shall question,
buttering you up with my wit, fingers, philosophy,
in quick succession, 
"of course my slave,my climax is near attrition"
I shall increase my thrusts, propelled by your enamoured-condition, until satiated you shall lay, upon cloth, exhausted and afraid, with pupils dilating, heart gyrating and an impression on your bed where I once lay.