His hands are searching,
    Touching,
         Feeling.
Wanting to take in more of me.

My body is his canvas
    And on it
He paints a picture of
      Beauty and passion.

His body presses to mine
                Softly
He wants more
      That I won't give.

And now that I look
    That picture
Wasn't of beauty and passion.
    It was of lust and mistreatment.