******* press upon my chest, above my heart, just enough to sting. Her hands were always bigger than mine, tougher, stronger. She pushed harder.

(this was how we showed our love, back when we loved)

She’s doing it now, again, staring. Staring, laying on the pressure, trying to pull a sound from my mouth, a gasp, a curse, a moan, anything.

Her short nails leave half moons in my skin, a pair of eyes winking up at me.