He likes to bite and I love when he does. Like a wild animal tearing into his prey, marking his territory, with wild abandon.
The bruises he leaves behind are my reminders. There are currently a dozen I can see in addition to my bruised derriere and a scratch up my thigh. They remind me of him with every move, every glimpse caught in the mirror. As I touch them with my finger I feel the ache and the memories of how they got there come flooding back. I can’t wait for more.
I’ve missed him the past few days. Still a few more before he returns. Maybe I’ll leave him with a few reminders the next time he has to go out of town.
Stella Kiink 