Who?

Who just left our bed?

Some stranger with my hands, tongue, and lips. Some beast in male form. Someone unlike me.

Despite appearances.

Haven't you always whispered, my sweet, precious love, the secret to our bliss. Curled up with interwoven limbs you murmer I am-

Kind,

Gentle,

Loving.

But not this man. With callous cruelty he held you down and ignored the pleas. Fingers curved inside a quivering center. Movements building to ecstasy while teasing agony. You shook. He laughed.

Later your delicate perfection, the ivory pale skin glowed red as his hand found flesh. Sweet scented hair balled within fists as he pushed your face into sheets. The wilderness of your howls increased the fury of his pace. The liquid pleasure dripped, escaped, and stained.

Where was the love in his speech? The soft affection in those mocking arrogant taunts.

Now the stranger fades as I stand before a mirror, evaluating some faraway soul. At last I recognize this face.

I peer through a door, seeing the twisted strands of bedding curled around curves. My beloved slumbers. A slightly stupid grin lights her features.

And as she dreams, is it of me...

Or the stranger.