This is Her Surrender

As the woman he'd paid for rolled over naked to face him,  
Her legs fell apart as if strings holding
her marionette form had been cut.  
Yes, he thought. This is her surrender.  

Her child-like face astonished him,  
But he was beyond redirection.  
The salty petals of her ripened womb  
Turned outward, as if seeking the sliver of sunlight  
Peeking through haggard curtains.  

He knew he would soon possess all of her.  
As his clothes fell to the floor, he gazed at her soft pink orifice,
Knowing it would be the member receiving her death
For anguish always stands close to pleasure.