I wish some trace of myself could linger on you
When I'm not around
The way lipstick lingers, pink and soft, on a soda can
Even after it is thrown into the trash
I wish I could leave some mark on you
Indelible but unpainful
Like grafitti on a wall
I was here
When I ran my hands across your skin
I wish it smudged and stained us both
Like ink
Or graphite
When I trace your shape with my eyes
I wish it left tracks
trailing gently over your skin
Like veins, soft and purple
I can feel your hand in mine
But I cannot see the gentle dents of your fingers
Pressing into my palms
Like the void left in your pillow when you rise each morning
I remember the feeling of laying beside you
But I cannot see the lines of your sheets
Pressed into my skin
Trailing like ribbons
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
I wish some trace of myself could linger on you
When I'm not around
The way lipstick lingers, pink and soft, on a soda can
Even after it is thrown into the trash
I wish I could leave some mark on you
Indelible but unpainful
Like grafitti on a wall
I was here
When I ran my hands across your skin
I wish it smudged and stained us both
Like ink
Or graphite
When I trace your shape with my eyes
I wish it left tracks
trailing gently over your skin
Like veins, soft and purple
I can feel your hand in mine
But I cannot see the gentle dents of your fingers
Pressing into my palms
Like the void left in your pillow when you rise each morning
I remember the feeling of laying beside you
But I cannot see the lines of your sheets
Pressed into my skin
Trailing like ribbons
