Bite me.

Bite me.

Bite my heart

with tales of love,

bite my thoughts with the sensation

of your fingers on my thighs.

Bite my earlobe when I hear

all the things I should not know.

Bite my lips,

my breast,

my belly,

bite me lower,

bite me deeper,

make me tremble

when you're craving

to be in control.

Bite my lips when I'm too loud,

hush me in your song.

Bite my core with your desire

that I'm docile all the time.

Bite my mind with reasoning,

Bite my dreams with your ambitions,

stacked in boxes, labelled neatly;

bite me when I am too much.

Bite my flesh when you are hungry.

Bite my fingers when I feed you.

Bite my silence with your chatter,

tunes repeated on and on.

Bite my wings of feathering

with the engines of your plane,

Bite the soil I walk on

with the concrete

of your fucking motorway.

Bite me.

Chew me.

Maul me.

Maim me.

Because I will bite right back,

and there's no vaccine for the rabies

that I'm bearing on my fangs.

So here I am.

And here you are.

Bite me.