unannounced, through a storm of tobacco and whisky
to fight me. He said he called weeks in advance,
but no telephone had rung in the house for a month.
He stripped himself of his steaming boots and shirt
in the hall, circled my chair on red wine slicked hooves
and asked me to dance. We were clumsy at first,
fumbling at each other's torsos. The Devil slipped
through my palms like egg yolks and I rolled
from his reach. Then he got firm, pinched at my waist
and hips like an uncle. His hands were large,
lifted and turned me over his arms and under
his chest. I felt his forked prick swollen in my thigh.
I twisted my wrists in his fists, but his ankles
pinned mine. I was locked in his frame, his shape,
and all his snorting, lusting, spitting sex was in me.
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