.... the label said, and as she applied, she
could
not get the image from her head: His
shoulders,
his back, she gouges, she shreds,
digging
deep, as they writhe and heave in sweat
drenched
sheets, deep in throws of bodies' heat. He suspects she wants his wife to know,
and what
better
way than signing your claim with carmine
claws?
Her signature piece, soon to bleed complete.
Blood
Red it shall be... nails, lips, pedi, bed. The
trap,
set, he senses, going willingly, wantonly,
wherever
she decides, whatever price the ride.
She'll
lick his wounds, owning him tonight.
(100 words)
V
