6 weeks and I still want to wash my body In bleach. Go over each inch, With a bristle brush. Watch my skin bleed. Because no matter what I do I can not get the taste of him Out of my mouth, Get rid of feeling Him Inside me.
Fingers touching my throat My lips on his neck I can't get rid of it.
Fifty one days My soul is still too soft Too soluble For his liking. My liquid gold Can not fill the cracks in his soul The jagged edges of his ribs.
Instead it slides down his body My tongue follows drip drip drip We cool on uneven stones