"Thank god there’s at least one thing we
can always agree on. Scars are left by
even the most delicate love.”
- From “Dear Corporation” by Adam Fell
When you touch me, you leave words
on my skin. The language
is often kind, the leaving
less so. I notice: my hands
say Stay. I remember when I turn
my palms up to cup water.
I raise them to my face,
inspecting how the liquid
conforms to a loss. I drink
from your memory. I taste
the specter of your fingertips,
in drops of glass.
I will see your flaws,
and I will love them
Just as much as
I love your strengths.
Something to hold on to would be nice right now.