His voice slapped me in the face.
It snapped like bubblegum.
He looked at me like I was the punchline
To the joke running through his head.
He looked at me with amused affection, almost like a lover,
But without tenderness or caring, only hunger.

I introduced myself because he had alcohol
And showed no interest in me.
A perfect subject.
I sat beside him, broke him away from another,
And told him the secrets he most wanted to hear.
Showed him that intimacy and secrets mean nothing to me,
That I was quick to open up.

His power came from a recklessness that even I couldn’t compete with;
I was nothing, and knew it, and loved it.
Everyone left without me, intentions clear, reputation blurring,
I didn't care.

I knew what I wanted from him and that it was in his nature to oblige me.
His lips curled like a jaguar, canines glittered.
The spark in his enormous pupils told me every line he could cross.
And he did.

I don’t remember how his lips felt on mine,
But I can still feel his hands on my throat.
How he laughed when I called him an *******,
And again when I said I hated his laugh.
We fought before, during, and after I came.
My head spun.
He ruined me, rebuilt me.

And I left hastily the next morning,
Before I could ask, “So, what’s your name?”