She wasn’t mine to tarnish
though my touch her skin corrodes
she  pure unblemished
A porcelain unicorn among men
till I wiped the tears from her eyes and brushed streaks of rust across the perfection of her cheek

The sunset shades streaked over the dampened skin that once cried dark circles into shirts I never knew I would miss

For the prettiest rose cannot go on once picked by hardened hands
the lines written on my skin forced in under the gloves that have seen barren cold that can only be felt in lonely places.

Crude cursive scratched and scarred over a landscape cursed to provide shelter to hearts fallen short of paradise but to never hold them for fear of damaging that which they seek to save