i've counted the times
i've lied, i've lied and been caught;
i've given black eyes and blue bruises, received red watercolor kisses on my neck and purple ones between my thighs;
i've given a cold shoulder, a warm embrace;
i've tasted the hot tears of my own perpetration on another face,
and i've stifled my own to keep a family strong;
i've "I love you"ed
through gritted teeth,
as i throw a punch,
as my face is at her belt;
now, i count the footsteps in our favorite walk,
and the days until when at six a.m.
i will be studying the line between your brow,
framing your irises fixed on mine,
trembling as a blue lipped child out of water;
but if the future is now, and if now is then,
i will taste
the lies, lips, tears, and tricks
as fresh flowers on the crispness of this morning to come