Acquiescence

Fingers, hands, soft legs and swiftly curving back
eager, no, insistent, for present need to couple.
Reaching, touching, clutching with their forceful tack
they bend her will with insidious speed, deceptively supple.

Lost, intertwined in battle with some personal devils
she succumbs, lost command of body, mind and soul.
Hot blood has boiled and brought her to a level
of seeking fiery death, impaled upon the pole.

At the brink, her sinews taut, as one upon a rack,
a scream escapes and breath's pace to double.
She cannot stop, escaped control never coming back,
roiling wet explosions obliterate her care or trouble.