Make Me

You want the fruit
Of my honeyed vine
To feast on the juices
Of my sweetest fruit

You want me kneel
And call you Sir
Cast my eyes down
And await your pleasure

But I am beauty rising
Pure and proud of
The blood rising inside me
Singing through my veins

I step to you with
My hair down
My mouth curved with
A knowing smile

You may take me
And I will frolic between the sheets
You may fill my body
With your seed

But if you want me
To bend before you
And give you the honor
You feel you deserve

Then you must make me
I bow only when I choose