Tales from a situationship every Skin is the largest organ, it’s also the most sensitive. It’s so easily breakable. A skinned knee, a rough touch. I
want to know every part of your sensitive skin. The marks and bruises. I want to help you heal and count your moles. By the end of us I will know every freckle, every mark,
sign
of
wear.
They say under a microscope we are almost all the same. I don’t know if I believe that. I think each mark and bruise changes our makeup, allows us to grow. The body never forgets. Sometimes I want to crawl inside your skin and test the theory out for myself.
I want you because I can’t have you. I imagine you in a suit someday A tie. Taking your shoes off after a rough d a y.
I want you because you said, “hi”. Your voice makes a lesser woman shake in her boots, It made my ice cream cone melt. The remnants leaving chocolate swirls down my forearm. I want you because you left and I couldn’t do anything about it. Truthfully, it made me crazy It made me wild. I chipped my front tooth that weekend. All to retaliate. I want you because you were mine At least I thought you were. But every time I turned around you were hers. Or you were his. Everyone’s but mine. I want you because she does. Sometimes I imagine that we spar. She and I are cowboys in an old film. Grainy and black and white. One of us makes the first move. I
want
you because I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to be young and hungry Always wanting more. You are supposed to satiate me. Quench my thirst.
