Someone Else


The marks someone else left
on your skin beg me
to recall how,
in the rain, we embraced so strongly
that morning we first met
and of later
the courage it took
to push the first “I love you”
off my dry tongue

The marks on your skin were
not left by me, nothing to do with me
yet they are everything and
I can’t tear my eyes
from the reddish bruises
an outline of her lips
a reminder of not-me

I leave with an offended ego
wrapped in my hands like something shameful
and the thumbprint of fear
embossed on my heart


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