would you be ashamed
to wear my lipstick
like secondhand smoke
a mark made monumental
on the collar of your shirt
on the rim of your coffee cup
on the sharpest cheek bone
i have ever kissed?

would you be angry
to wear my lipstick
on your bony shoulders
on the mirror of your room
on the pillowcase where you
sleep and never think about me?

I would be honored
to wear your scent
on my sheets
on my neck
and under my skirt
but most importantly
on the skin above my heart.