The scars I left on my arm
Climb like a ladder to my shoulder,
The same shoulder
You left your own scars on.
The same shoulder
Your arms embraced for years.

The scars on my legs
Are cushioned by new lovers
In the dark
Who can't see them.
In the dark,
I'm not wounded.

Recent lovers have
Left their marks, but
Your knife in my hand
Was by far the sharpest.
Your knife in my hand
Hurt as much as mine in yours.