I've been thinking about the difference between a bruise and a brand. A bruise fades. It’s a temporary mark of passion, or carelessness, or violence. A brand is forever. It’s a choice. Last night, I asked him to bite me. Not a love bite, not a playful nip. I bared my shoulder and told him to leave a mark I’d feel tomorrow. He hesitated. I had to guide his jaw into place, press my skin against his teeth, and whisper 'harder' until he understood. When he finally did, when his teeth broke the skin and the coppery taste of my blood touched his tongue, I felt him shudder. Not from pain, but from the terrifying permission of it. Today, the skin is broken, purpling beautifully. It will scar. And every time I see it, I’ll remember the exact moment a kind man chose to be an animal for me. That’s the real ownership. Not taking, but being invited to ruin.