I hover with my face just above his, I can’t trust myself to touch him in the moment because I want to crash into and through him with teeth and bone and blood and the hardness of clashing steel. And even though I am soft, really, all tender and smooth flesh that gives and bends, I am afraid that I will really hurt him.
I feel like I am snarling at him, breathing into his open mouth, watching his tongue tentatively reach out to survey the damage already done to him. I’m not sure if I make any sound, but … Continue Reading