the marks formed by ruthless tables, i can live without.
the bruises blossoming from falling too many times,
are of no beauty to me.
the scars from too many lost battles, bring joy
(for a little while)
but your marks, bright and vibrant.
your bruises, beautifully blue, yellow and purple,
are my new tattoos, the gun, your teeth.
the scratches etching my back, my blood under your nails,
my cells speckled.
this canvas, your work of art.
this exhibition, your dominance.
none other shall stain me.
i apply the pressure, perceive the throb.
come back, my brute, my savage, my demon,

love bites, i seek.
love bites, i need.