i traced the outline of the
bug bites on my knees,
while your insecurities
floated by in my memories.

it was about 100 degrees.
humid air hanging on our skin,
so freshly destroyed and
rotting out like
some kind of disease.

i traced the outline of the
stars in the sky,
tried to figure out which way
the sun would rise.
i never knew much about astronomy,
but enough to know you never
deserved an apology.