When his hands tightened
in a flash of lightning
around my wrists,
like a handcuff
piercing more than skin,
didn't that make me responsible?

After all, it was my body
that tried to fight back,
but couldn't. It was my lips
that turned inside out,
my tongue that wanted
to swallow itself.

Later, it was my mouth that formed
those five pathetic syllables:
"Did I kiss you back?"
And when he said,
"Of course," it was my ears
that believed him.