no No NO 

How many times must I tell you: you’ve got it all wrong, completely and utterly wrong. 
            I don’t want you touching me, I don’t want your hands on me at all. 

I was fine before you started unzipping my pants, before you started in with your tongue and lips and fingers. 
            I was content with hand-holding and maybe a kiss here or there, happy and sheltered by your side. 

But now it feels like you are conquering me, that I am some piece of earth, a mound to be moved, and I simply do not want to be moved.
           I need to be grounded, not relocated. You should know this by now. 

                                           So I tell you no No NO 

But you do not seem to hear. 
            This is such a primeval story: the brute’s ears closing over when lust and erection take hold of him. 

He cannot be stopped; the wheel rolling down the hill. 
           I do not blame you for an urge that came centuries before you were even born, an urge I am sure I must have hidden somewhere deep inside of me. 

I do not blame you for wanting to conquer me - god knows I wanted to conquer you. 
            But don’t you know there are more subtle, more quiet ways to conquer someone and their flesh? 

            This way is just too brutal.