Leave Your Mark

I keep asking you to bruise me with your lips.

…So that when I’m adjusting to the new lights

streaming through my bedroom window, I’ll

remember how bright and red

my skin was when you left it.

And maybe, with that,

I’ll remember the taste of your mouth

after it ran down my neck

and the brush of your tongue

on my inner thigh.
Leave me with the physicality

so I can remember the sound of your voice

and the nebula in your eyes

as you stare hard, wishing you didn’t have to go,

wishing we had more time.

Leave your mark on me so

when it’s 12 am on a Friday and

I’m lost somewhere in the city and

feeling a little sad and lonely…

maybe this time it’ll be enough

to stop me

from climbing into a stranger’s bed

and sneaking out stage left

in the early morning’s rays.

Maybe this time it’ll be enough

to stop me from finding empty pleasure

or from searching for you in other’s eyes.

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