grazing your knee next to mine,
the way a pen hovers over a page before
an injection of blue and black.
track marks of elation.
are my bruised lips.
your lips, pink,
siphon black ink from my veins
into your lungs.
my grazed cheeks,
scrawled from scruffed bristles
to scrub away skin of dead sin.
your knee pulls away,
we sit side by side; while,
a huff of your breath
seals this sensation of