Thou art to me a delicious torment. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
I give as good as I get, and he loves that about me. My desire to mark his skin, dig my nails in, and make him feel my presence has nothing to do with sadism, control, or power. It is the urge to be remembered, encouraged by the wild primal thing living inside me.
Marks are memories made real in the skin, and I am unforgettable.