Two-hundred and Thirty-seven: not yet

one day i will lie on my back
and let you count my scars.
we can make wishes on them,
go fishing for happy endings,
start revolutions of love, shake
out art that beats a little bit faster.
the heat between us will not burn
because we won’t be a disaster but,
please, don’t come yet. i am not
ready for you: i am not my own master.


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

5 thoughts on “Two-hundred and Thirty-seven: not yet”

  1. I have been lurking since your piece went up at Indie Ink, and am finally taking this opportunity to tell you how much I admire your writing. your words are strong and chosen with so much skill.

  2. Our bodies may be God’s temple but I think they are road maps to what lies within. Each scar has a story, each mark leads us to hidden scars beneath. Scars, tattoos, wrinkles everything we do to our bodies is a map of where we’ve been.

    That someone will want to explore all of you.

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