I marked my body with symbols deep of our love, a code only we shared she marked hers with my number "74" she wore, circles for each of us children too. I chose a key, she'd unlocked a heart I never knew I wear "14364". She has a keyhole on her hip meaning so deep and now does it mean anything to her but ink in skin she wishes not to keep, perminate even if covered. I will wear mine to my grave together with my box of things she forgot to put the parts of my heart in. No colors gay, she chose to stare at the mirror because real life was too bright. Year Slater I cry winding if I'll ever know before I die.