He has her arms trapped beneath her spine.
Her knees bent back and twisted to the sides.
All the contortionists tricks she'd saved up for a special
night used to keep splayed like a butterfly.

The two are still fully clothed,
but he's got her pinned beneath his pelvis.
Miming penetration, he thrusts.

With her head turned,
she can see right out the open door.
And she can hear the children down stairs
playing cops and robbers.

Like trellis roses, his hand is laced through her hair.
He pulls, he controls what she will see
forcing her eyes to his.

Then he leans forward,
his lips pressing against her ear.
Teeth nipping at her lobe he whispers
'It's not rape if you ask and Sweets, you were asking'.