Hands open, fingers spread
revealing your palms - your history,
As the deep grooves tracing your past
seep into the rivers of your future.

Your gentle grip contradicted
By those coarse fingertips,

They are yours to have, but mine to hold.

You’ve given me a piece of your mind
I listened
I made a playlist to indulge
I added a love song from the shadow before you
I searched through your records to find the ones you gifted me
The Spanish jazz you thought I’d like
I stumbled upon 9
Only 2 residents in that cloud
The song that makes you think of me
The heart beside it full
And mystery of love
All I planned to do was listen to some Marvin Gaye
Mercy mercy me

Corners curled
setting off the ripple of laughter lines.

White flashes between the red.

Your lipstick, like wet paint,
Tainting anything it touches.