In the 1970s, Michel Foucault suggested that we eliminate rape law. Nobody thought this was a good idea, feminists foremost. It probably still isn't. And yet, we know there are costs to statutorily segregating out sex crimes from other crimes, feminist and liberal reforms to rape law notwithstanding. Some of those costs include: revictimizing victims through cross-examination; racially disparate arrests, convictions and sentencing for sex crimes; sex crime as as an overrepresented contributor to mass incarceration; the social outcasting of sex offenders and the attendant normalization of everyday (hetero)sexuality; more amorphously and maybe more invidiously, the discursive reproduction of girls' and women's bodies as thing-like, violable, and degradable; more speculatively and maybe more provocatively, the discursive doubling of rape as a harm-worse-than-death.  Are the benefits worth the costs? If rape law once protected the property transfer of white girls and women from their fathers to their husbands, second wave and later reforms repurposed rape law in the service of protecting rights-bearing citizens.  But retaining the "sex" of sex crimes meant reconstructing rather than relinquishing the specialness of sex. On this read, the distinction between sexual assault and assault is not between a violation of property and a violation of the person, but rather a distinction between a violation of personhood and the person. The dilemma remains whether rape law can or has shed its gendered, proprietary residuals.  This paper meditates on some possibilities and pitfalls of abolishing rape law, and closes out by addressing two questions: 1) if we abolished rape law, how would we tend to nonviolent but nonconsensual sex? Provisional answer: battery and torts; 2) is it logically (or politically) inconsistent to advocate abolishing rape law while retaining a commitment to sex equality laws more generally? Provisional answer: no