My Man is content to hold me in semi-slumber cooing sweetness to me in the dark gray light of winter twilight. His hands wander over my blood-warm ski... as I float back to oblivion. I image I am in a golden field and he is the God of the harvest. He will cherish and use me as He wants. His fingers press harder into my flesh kneading and grabbing my hips breasts and belly. He rolls me onto my back and urges my hips up toward to him. "Look at me baby. I need to see you want me, angel "I open my. Suddenly, I realize they have changed topics, and now they areinterviewing a man who accusing the basketball coach at a large Americanuniversity, claiming that the man abused him for years.I know I should turn the station, but my hand is frozen as he describesthe betrayal of trust, his powerlessness, the lack of help, and I can feelmy mind going dark, going back into my own past.I get to work, and from the outside, it looks like nothing is wrong. Imove, I talk, but my attention is totally drawn. More

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