if scars tell a story...
...my back holds its own tale.
face down,
underneath
me
arms pinned.
torso bearing
my own weight
and his.
hair pulled up,
s p r e a d
...my back holds its own tale.
face down,
underneath
me
arms pinned.
torso bearing
my own weight
and his.
hair pulled up,
s p r e a d
on the bed,
le gs as well.
eyes closed,
body tense,
senses alert,
i await ---
the breaths of fire,
his soldering lips
that sear my flesh,
branding me his,
and the brushstrokes
of his tongue
painting a romance novel
on the canvas of my body
where the story ends
...and begins
d
o
w
n
t
h
e
l
e
n
g
t
h
le gs as well.
eyes closed,
body tense,
senses alert,
i await ---
the breaths of fire,
his soldering lips
that sear my flesh,
branding me his,
and the brushstrokes
of his tongue
painting a romance novel
on the canvas of my body
where the story ends
...and begins
d
o
w
n
t
h
e
l
e
n
g
t
h
of my spine.