Stretch Marks

A foot of water Barely blurs them The pinkish bruises Spanned like hands Across my hips I press my fingers to them Try to align them with the crooked broken lines That tear across my body They are violet roads On a map that is me Starting pale at the backs of my knees Stretch to meet the butterflies That touch and leave And touch and leave The tall tall grass And they gently circle my breasts Where I fold the grass Beneath my back Find eyes that aren't mine And kiss Kiss Kiss And they wrap tight around my thighs Leaving dark deep grooves Somewhere dead And new Where his face is suddenly old to me And I wash it from my skin Wash it away Away Away