I Submit to Him

I wear headcovers in church, and I submit to him.

I bend over in the shower and let him rub his erection against me. I submit to him.

I writhe beneath him, I cry, I panic, I flee, but still he enters me inexorably. I submit to him.

He kisses me, roughly. We’ve been apart too long. His lips search mine. I feel warm and wet. I submit to him.

I suck, I lick, I want the jewel.

If I try to leave, he punishes me. I’m his.

Did he make me a whore or was I one already?

Another one, he whispers, embracing my–our–fertility. Another anchor, another tie to him. Another terrible sacrifice. I submit to him.

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