Unbearably humid. Beaming sunlight piercing thunderous clouds. Falling thousands of feet on my skin. I hope it washes away the sins of man, the pain of women, and the need to feel loved. For now, life is flourishing. But I’m patient.  Anticipating autumn’s return. So I can feel cold and numb again.

Pens and markers. Old receipts.
Gum wrappers. Her boots.
She could throw anything,
and I’d be okay with it.
To harm me? Or a playful gesture?
It doesn’t matter.
Throw it with all your might,
just mean it when you do.
She could throw herself,
and I’d catch.
But please,
don’t throw this away.

These marks on my skin,
Reminiscent of
teeth and sharp nails
Digging into my arms.
With no effort,
you created hope, with pain.
On my left index finger,
Pealing and bleeding
For what seems like eternity.
I’d bleed out for you.