The ones I left the night before.
Deep reminders of me.
Etched into your flesh.
Those risen trails of my passion.
Our mutually exchange of digging into each other’s body.
Striving to become a union of one breath, one tempo, one reality.
I dig deeper.
Unlike the whips of the past you welcome my enforcement.
You call onto it in your murmurs which travel through me evenly.
When my intensity heals over, I'll find a way to carve my longing
for you into your rich ebony layers.
One stroke at a time.
- Nadine Plummer