I stand before the mirror….you come up behind me, holding the back of my neck with your hand, pressing the blade of the knife lightly into my skin of my neck. Not hard enough to break the surface, it leaves a red line as you draw the blade slowly down my chest, flicking the nipples with the cold steel. The knife’s tip is light enough to tickle as it caresses my flesh. You draw the line farther down to my belly before releasing me, then gripping my wrists in your free hand….you trail the blade down from my wrist to my elbow, back again, and I gaze at the lines so red against my flesh, marking the way, before meeting your eyes….
