Create A MiracleMature

The sun has barely touched the horizon

With its fingertips, leaving behind a haze

Of gold and grey, that shrivels the grass

Of the little house. "Lay down." Says the man

As he would to a dog, and to him, the woman

Is little more than that. She is only a toy

That he can play with, order around,

And touch in all the right ways, whether or not

She likes it. So when he tells her to lie down

She does, and she lifts her skirts for him, knowing

That when he enters, her will forget

To wipe his feet on the mat.

The End

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