Last week I drew blue lines up and down my arm like racing stripes
Crooked waves from a magic marker bleeding back together
I traced them with smudged hands in the morning
Blue left its mark on my pastel sheets
and there are still lines on my skin
Last summer you spilled your ink over picket-fence walls
and I said “I’m sorry,
Let me help.”
We held hands in filthy water and
I washed the residue off your fingertips
I swear I heard waves crashing
from outside your bedroom window
Last fall I still didn’t know you
you told me you wanted to leave a mark on the world
the water almost drowned out my words
but I said, “I understand.”
and I ignored the sharp burn of chlorine in my throat
Last winter I let you imprint ink onto my body
With every pinch of the needle a tear cut a river out of my cheek
and you said “I’m sorry,
I know it hurts.”
You assured me of its permanence, and yet
Every day I look to see if it has been washed away
Last month our eyes didn’t meet
and I keep finding new ink on your skin
I let the water run for too long in the bathroom
I always pick the polish off my fingernails
Do you know that I am sinking?
Last night I traced the rivers stretching across my map
I fell asleep on pastel-blue sheets
the sound of rushing water weighing heavy on my ears
I know you’re afraid of drowning but
Think of where they could take us
Think of how long we could last.
Poetry
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