some one come up with a name for my poem

The bite marks of where you imprinted your love on my arm in a playful manner have since passed, but the muscle tissue still hurts, but never as much as the muscle i use to love you when we part. I rub there to remind myself your presence wasn't just a dream. hair follicles being torn from their roots from the rough housing we do, as a sign of love. body parts bruised but soon healed by soft kisses. Every kiss still as fresh as the first time you laid your lips to mine in that soft dimmed moment of romance. making the first move because i wasn't man enough. your arms locking around my neck as if you are trying to comfort the wounded ego, i thought was so big. slow motion as your eyes lock into mine to become one dragging away any uncertainty of love. you caught me, i'm yours, don't let me go.