Canvas

Let me paint you.

Scratches—each one deliberate, tracing the outline of moments we can't take back.

Bites—imprints of hunger, a primal desire etched into your skin like the rawest confession.

Bruises—shades of blue and purple, blooming across your body like the aftermath of a violent storm.

Blood—a crimson whisper, flowing, pooling, telling stories where words have failed.

Welts—raised ridges, marking where hands met flesh, a roadmap of passion too fierce to contain.

Cuts—sharp and deep, clean lines that break the surface, reminders of where we lost control.

A temporary tapestry, fleeting yet vivid, recounting the chaos and the closeness of the night before.