Ah, lover, I warn you: I use my nails.
Pay no mind to those who call them talons, nor to those who claim my eyes as black stars that sear. Fear not my encompassing wings, nor the press of flesh on flesh. I give only pleasure, and in the hollow of my chest beats a heart as made of muscle as any mortal’s. What scars I leave are gifts and mementos.
Nothing you have heard is true.
Except, lover, I warn you: I use my nails.