Sometimes she lies in bed and all
he sees are limbs, white-willow tall
and aspen thin. He doesn’t care
what's underneath her tousled hair.
He only sees the artful sprawl.
She has the power to enthrall -
to back him up against the wall
and pin him hanging, hopeless, there.
Sometimes she lies
In bed and orders him to crawl
across the floor and down the hall.
If he’s obedient she’ll swear
she loves him, stretch, and slowly bare
her breasts, secure he won't recall
sometimes she lies.