Monday, December 13, 2010

O Negative

My fingertips run along his sleeping body
(My hands will never forget him)
His skin smells of a foreign land
That has left scars and bruises on him
But I will heal your wounds as you sleep, lover
And encode every curve, every bone into memory
So that when you leave me
When you're cured and don't need me
I can always remember you.

01.17.07