Consensual

Overcome

by so much emotion,

my stained glass belly burst into a thousand pieces,

roaring through space and time,

ripping, 

tearing into your flesh, 

imprinting a piece of me

Onto,

In_to, 

You.

And, at last, I wonder. . .

have I the right?

Then, groping in the darkest recesses of my soul

find the broken finger that carries shame like a diamond ring,
Pointed awkwardly at me.
I hold it with grace, and turn it rightfully away.