Roadmaps

the bruise you left on my right hip is gone now
took two weeks, but it's faded
and i miss it
the blooming flower of yellow, purple, blue
blossoming under my skin
because you put it there
and now youre gone.



the gravel caught inside my feet have vanished
unstuck, pushed out by the city grit
and my no-nonsense summer sandals.



the small crack in my lip has healed
a shifting separation of earth
the tangy taste of metal
all gone
my tongue searches for wounds that
my body has already absorbed
sucked up
into its heart and core.



the sweat has evaporated, leaving me warm, buzzing
just a little
scratches gone, the roadmaps a blank canvas now.
my skirt still ripped, but dejected alone in the cleanest corner
of my bedroom.
i'll wear it the next time i see you.