Swallow

Swallow

I taste something
in my mouth.
Bright and almost
bitter but not quite.
It's either
blood or semen.
I'm not sure which.
Oh god I ache
just when I move
out of your arms and I'm
reaching for something
to cover myself.
Stop to look
at four angry purple hash marks
pressed into the tender flesh
above my inner wrist
and their brother
there, yes, twisting my arm,
underneath.
Swallow, gulping air and I
can taste it
still
and know it's you
blood or semen
burning in my throat.
I press my own fingers
to the marks and squeeze.
Oh god it aches!
I moan, remember, and
I swallow again.