Excerpt
in the night, your mouth at my neck
a long passionate kiss arches my back
then stronger, hungrier, more purposeful–
i wonder how close you are to my jugular
do you mean to suck at my core?
but you stop
and i am still alive
so i think of leeches instead of vampires.

the next morning, i stand at the mirror
from behind you wrap your arms around me
i am looking at my neck
and seeing the truth of your intent:
a territorial claim to ownership.
then i look at your face and see more
the arrogant leap from brand to birthmark.

during the day, someone asks about it
and realizing the truth of accomplishment
i turn and say to you
it is merely a bruise,
and therefore, nothing permanent.