Our brands of pleasure.
And that our brands are of pleasure, that they are the brands that we need to hide with a smile on our faces, brands that deep down we would like to share with the world just to say: - Look here, see? There is someone who wants me, someone who takes me well and leaves me these marks of passion.
Another kind of marks, like those that hurt feelings? Dismissed. If you are going to mistreat me, please do it nicely and preferably in bed. If it is to torture me, let it be of will. And if it is to make me lose nights of sleep, let it be with our bodies wet.
Enough of those scarred marks, those lies that make us insecure, those nights we beg to fall asleep just to lessen the pain of disappointment a little. These marks I dispense, in fact, I beg the heavens to never have to feel. Only I know how much of these wounds I carry and how my smiles need to disguise things that still hurt today.
Make a note there: I am totally open to the marks on the skin, the marks of two people who cling, squeeze, bite and truly care for each other. You can leave those marks on me, you can pull me hard, bite, suck, slap. Leave these marks that only real men know how to leave. Because those marks of fakes men I dispense, marks of lies, scorn and lack of respect, these marks can keep for you.
Because in this life I have already decided: Brands only those of passion, only those made by the mouths and hands of those worthwhile. Whoever causes pain in my chest, I just want to keep my distance.