I want you on my tongue, I want it to hurt, I want your name to leave
Bite marks down my neck into my ears until
I scrawl your last name on the roof of my mouth.
How good it tastes, how right it feels.
Last night under a half-moon you were drenched in agony and
I think I started to love you even more (if it’s possible, I don’t think it’s possible).
3AM Thoughts // AKA “When Your Mouth Curves Around My Name I Can’t Think Straight.”