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       His moans are my aphrodisiac-
       I strive to see his face gone blank,
       His body pulled tight,
       His hands reaching for me.
       I want to give to him
       What was taken from me
       So long ago.
       The urgency of his hands erases 
       the memory of the unwelcome ones.
       His whispers in the dark block out that
       horrible silence that filled the room.
       His mouth on my skin soothes the dread 
       that filled my stomach when that robe fell open.
       Later, looking into his eyes, I can finally cry.