Taken on a careless day all within a moment
With no means to get away or possible atonement
Freely she caresses, assuring me the struggle should be suspended
As she spins silken stays and has me strung upended.

“My children must eat, you must agree
to be their meal rather than be free
And this robe I’m making you, no king could ever own
With freshest silver threads and gossamer lining sown.”

The stillness in my being from her kiss still stinging
I sway to her submitting and this garment fitting.

Soon a warm and waiting fare, soften and poised
Hanging in mid air becoming paranoid.

Wrapped in my silken gown there’s really not much to do
Except to wait for a hundred baby mouths to chew
Tearing at your hem coming for their feast
Though at first you only hear them on a thousand tiny feet.