Tuesday, May 10, 2011

♥ beautymark ♥

This fine feathered line between dramatic attachment and sexual obsession, oh baby, how we seem to cross it far too often. I’ve spent far too much time counting and memorizing the moles on your chest and on your back, the feeling of running my fingers through your hair, the clinching jaw that softly and divinely hurts my collarbone when you lay on top of me.

Thinking on ways how to keep the scent of your body on mine for longer periods of time. There is not a thought, not a dream that hasn’t been invaded by you, your face, your wishes bestowed upon me, there is not a moment, baby, not a second of life, I manage to spend without you. I’ve worn you, I’ve worn you all over until these thoughts and shadows of you become too heavy for me to bear.

The last time we slept together, you gave me this wonderful bruise after telling me “I want to eat you alive”, I was shaken by the thought of dismemberment but fascinated by this predatory hunger in your eyes. In the soft peachy flesh of my inner thigh I carry this wonderful memory of you, it hasn’t faded yet and even though I wanted it to look heartshaped, the only thing I see is the mark of your teeth and the violence that consumes you. I am glad, baby. I’ll always be.

Rather inspire dangerous and terrifying passion than candor, sweetness and pathetic kindness.

Drink me in, break me in half but don’t you ever stop wanting me this way


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