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Coups de cœur Cultura
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He broke into my house, watched me sleep.
He was dressed in black and wore a mask, telling me I could run but he'd catch me.
I knew he only wanted one thing, and he wouldn't leave until he got it.
To use me.
It was just the tip… of his tongue on my body, his weapon at my throat. It was just the tip of sweetness and fear that held me close and refused to let me go.
I was frightened of the lengths he'd go, of how close he'd take me to the edge. I didn't know if he'd throw me over or embrace me in the darkness.
All I could do was surrender. It was bittersweet and an encounter I didn't know if I'd live to see the end of.
