I am trying to remember your tattoos
and I cannot.
You had a goddess on your calf,
but which one?
There are the vines that started on your ankles,
I think,
and wound up your strong legs,
traveled the curve of your hip,
to where?
Or did they begin on your arms?
****, I should know this.
I remember the heart on your ***,
the mermaid on your chest,
the rocket ship, somewhere.
I spent so many hours looking at these tattoos
I should know them as well as my own body.
I don't though.
The edges blur away
into skin
and elbows
and smells
and sounds
and feelings.
When I try to think of your body
I feel my hand tracing the curve of your back.
I smell amber and wine.
A fertility goddess on the shoulder,
laughing and tumbling
out of bed together in a
breathless heap.
Crime scenes, willow leaves on your neck.
Drawings by Luke, a rocket, a cat, and was there a heart in there?
I should know this.
I tried to memorize them on so many nights.
I should ******* know this.
The lilies on your arm, I can taste your stomach.
I tried to look back at the captured moments.
Never once did I think,
take pictures of all her tattoos,
one day you wont be able to remember them.
One day you will not be welcome to look or touch.
I can remember every curve of your body.
I remember every fold,
every scar.
I can feel your soft feet and your stubble covered legs
I would not want any other way.
But...I can't see you baby,
I can't see you.
How many times
did my hands roam your canvas?
How many times did I long to be the ink
in your skin?
I wanted you to
take my pain and make it yours,
carry me around with you,
as you.
I wanted you to blend our pain
and make it something beautiful.
I can hear your voice,
the one I thought you
used
just for me.
The stain of you covers me and I just want this taste out of my mouth.