If you wear my grip,
As a necklace.

I'll wear your scratches,
As tattoos.

Your thighs,
Painted with bruises.

My shoulders,
Flesh torn from bites.

Your hair,
Nested with knots.

My lip,
Swollen and bleeding.

I'll feel you tighten,
You'll feel me empty.

Well record it,
In our minds.

Us loving,
And hating.

At the same time.