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
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