Leaving the mark
Claws running down the spine, dug in to make a mark, left within the throws of passion, desire was the spark
Teeth scrapped across the flesh, teeth buried into skin, biting down on their body, full of lust and sin
Bruises upon the skin, going through the shades of black and blue, caused by paddle, a hand or perhaps a floppy shoe
Crop marks across the skin, they really, really sting, the straight lines on the arse, pain and pleasure is what it brings
Each mark is a ownership, it shows that you belong, some lasts for ages, then some don't last to long
Everytime they feel the bruise, or see the mark upon their skin, gives them a sweet reminder, of their night of sin
Whether they are love bites, or bruises left deep within the skin, they are fed by a desire and a love from deep within
THE KINKY POET
