The nights never seem to end. Like a tiger, he pounces and jumps, leaving marks all over. Blacks and purples, they don’t vanish when the reds already appear. And in his incessant pounding, the four walls suck off all my ‘no‘s.
Sunlight seeps in, and I do my best to cover up the medley of those hues. Button up till the top, long sleeves, whether hot or cold. Even then if another man glances my way, back at home, he makes sure a different kind of red marks my body.
I almost scoff at that.
Is it mine really? Seems more like his territory.
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