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Description
each night i crawl into a bed of faded ink stains
and i think of how you used to trace the outlines of my cheekbones
with the feathery tip of a paintbrush
and when i ran out of spare scraps of paper
i would use old windowpanes as blueprints
as you sketched out our new layout on my bare skin
and the criss-crossing scars were our latitudes and longitudes

i trace new scars
with the calloused tip of my pinkie
and i wonder why you said we needed more room
when my skin stretched taut over lean muscles
and i still can't live without the
featherlight touch of a paintbrush
as it fills in the dark circles under my eyes
and trails over the determined set of my jaw bone
and i learned long ago that you can't erase pen
so each night i crawl into a bed of faded ink stains.

Description
each night i crawl into a bed of faded ink stains
and i think of how you used to trace the outlines of my cheekbones
with the feathery tip of a paintbrush
and when i ran out of spare scraps of paper
i would use old windowpanes as blueprints
as you sketched out our new layout on my bare skin
and the criss-crossing scars were our latitudes and longitudes

i trace new scars
with the calloused tip of my pinkie
and i wonder why you said we needed more room
when my skin stretched taut over lean muscles
and i still can't live without the
featherlight touch of a paintbrush
as it fills in the dark circles under my eyes
and trails over the determined set of my jaw bone
and i learned long ago that you can't erase pen
so each night i crawl into a bed of faded ink stains.