Tattoo Poetry My Words On Your Skin
I could paint a poem on your back
With a Chinese brush and India ink.
And then, with a razor or pin or sliver of bamboo
And a stolen hotel towel (to daub the blood and excess black),
I could make it Permanent.
I have seen this done before in my dreams.
But You would never allow this violence of obligation,
This enduring itch of commitment.
You could never abide my words on your skin.

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