When he’s big,

I am small.

Underneath him,

His weight on my back,

He makes me, not weak,

But fragile, precious,

To be cared for.

Taken.

Abused.

Wrapped around me,

His flesh hot against mine,

I ache for him

His touch.

Hard.

Demanding attention,

It breaks me into submission.

As he powers over me

I shrink beneath him.

Becoming smaller.

Tinier.

Until I am less mine,

And more his.

And he grows.

Bigger.

And me smaller.

Until I am nothing,

but His.