a little bit of pain.
Your hard grip on my soft skin.
I like a little bit of soreness,
The ghosts of your passion forming bruises on my flesh.
I want you to bite--
I want your teeth:
We'll work up to the harsher grip
Leave the crescent of your mouth
on my limbs.
Make me ache, make me sore--
A soreness that will last through morning.
Tweak them--you know what I mean.
Twist a little, tug a little--
Tease them, hard and mean,
Every sweet little throb makes me wild for more.
You know what I mean.
I yearn for the sting of your palm against my--
Well, I'll just let you guess.
I long for that echoing bright pink pang,
Then your hand,
Prolonging the beautiful chastisement.
If I'm good (or if I'm bad)
Will you let that hand stray?
Will you let it paw at my--
Yes, touch, tease,
It is all yours.
I want to remember
By the soreness in the morning
The one who owned me last night.
I want to feel you in every movement--
When I sit, when I stand, when I bite the soft part of my hand
To bring back the aching, beautiful burn of your teeth from before.
I want to wear your bruises and marks
I want you to put your claim on my skin
And let me feel you