We were all skin and skin and skin...
Fingertips counting ribs
A map of scares and pleasures.
Silence so colorful inking whole lines on our bodies.

Painful and poetic.

Two living hells waiting to find out who burns faster.
Still, applying cold water
on the wounds we caused each-other.

Heavy breathes of confusion on necks,
trying to remember the way we smelled.
We were lost in space.

All skin and skin and skin,
but our souls were three galaxies away.