"Do you trust me?" he asks
And you say, "No."
As you do it anyway.
Putting him through his paces
Like some show animal
Or a wind-up toy.
Rough.
Fast.
Hard.
Never gentle.
Because gentleness admits to love.

"Do you trust me?" he asks you.
And you say, "No."
As the two of you break the furniture.
Smashing his possessions.
Screaming like a wildcat.
Moaning like a whore.
Biting.
Clawing.
Tearing.
Completely mechanical.
Because machines cannot love.

"Do you trust me?" he asks you.
And you say, "No."
As you take him from above.
Before he takes you from behind.
Affectionately.
Pleasurably.
Gent… No, not like that! Do it harder, make it hurt.
He obliges.
You leave him there, alone.
Because that is all he's good for.