I Too, Think of Death

I too, think of death.    
Each thrust of your shining sword    
landing at home in my sheath    
says death is always near.    
   
Your pounding pelvic mass reminds me of    
a man who took from me by force what I give you willingly.    
I marvel that you love me, one you could crush so easily.  
Why do I hear the whispers of others as I fall beneath you?  
   
At the moment of your coming,    
I think of the dancing life jetting    
into my center where hundreds soon die    
seeking to pierce the surface of my egg.    
   
I think of their sacrifice for your pleasure as we sigh,    
breathing each other’s air.      
I taste your breath and wonder if you might one day
think of sacrificing me for your pleasure?    
I fear us when we’re together,    
but cannot help but spread myself to your desiring sword.