if it wasn't your soul...
or the flawless symmetry of your face,
or even that stainless yet smokey smile
then it was the statue that they built of you
in the city
and how even the birds knew your name.
between laughter-like sounds,
i can still hear them calling you.
you made your mark.
not on my heart
but on the other
side
in an unexpected space
on my rib cage
a tiny "xo"
marks my skin forever
in black ink.
©