Your Hickies Look like Marilyn Monroe The bruises on my chest this morning, I do not know where they came from but they did not remain unnoticed. They are secrets and picture books, written in night ink on crumpled damp sheets. In the morning smeared across bodies, we do not remember the stories except as white noise and dreams. There is a darkness in my wrists; I cannot turn my hands out to receive love, breaking.
Pattie Flint