My nails had been long. I'd given up biting six months ago. But ever since I tasted his blood I couldn't stop putting my fingers into my mouth, chewing the skin, licking up drops of redness. Hoping it would satisfy my craving.
I kept looking at necks. Middle aged triple chins the type with thick white hair growing under. Women too scared too pluck them out. Or too blind to see.
Throbbing Adam's apples on smooth soft skin. Younger boys looking into my eyes, misreading signals. Lustful.
My history professor, all nose hair and stubble. Wondering if there was any possible way he could seduce me.
Today I bit into my first neck in a long time.
My nails would grow again.