I will turn my back to you, giving you the most vulnerable part of my body — a place you can cover with yourself, leave your mark on. When you come on my back, you leave an invisible drawing on me — warm, sticky, yours. I feel the drops trickle down my spine, pass between my shoulder blades, slowly descend to my lower back, and disappear into the curve of my spine. This sensation is unbearably intimate because I cannot see you, I can only feel, and that amplifies everything to the limit. I want you to run your hand over my back, smearing yourself on my skin, drawing patterns with your fingers, leaving your name, your moisture, your light on me. Then I will turn around and look at you — marked, warm, yours. With me, you don't just come — you cover me with yourself. And I will carry that trace until morning.