She lays, naked, flattened, molded into the black dirt.
She had sensed his approach,
but still, she wasn’t ready.
She had turned too late.
No time to run, nowhere to hide.
The gigantic dark roller came towards her,
and as his torrent of words flooded her brain,
shoving aside all her reason and ability to think,
Shielding her eyes, she stared up at her fate,
and as light was replaced by the looming shadow,
and the breath was pressed from her body,
she knew there had never been the chance of escape.
There was no, “no,” in his world,
but she’d dare to say it.
No, I don’t want to fly in your private jet.
No, I don’t want to live in your palace.
No, I don’t want to ride in your Rolls Royce.
No, I don’t want to feel your diamond collar.
No, I don’t want your check.
Your jet flies too high.
Your palace has no drawbridge.
Your Rolls has no windows.
Your collar chokes me.
My passion is priceless.
She’d dared to say no,
and now she is flattened.
The stench of the rotted, crushed leaves floats through her nostrils,
her eyes squeeze shut…
How hard would it have been to say, yes?