12:23 am / 22.03.04
do you remember when my hair was
and choppy and red.
we sat under the pole of the lodge
and when you kissed me
you left your tongue in my mouth
a little longer than you knew i liked.
and while we talked.
i picked at your scabs
making you bleed all down your
and the blood dried in your hair.
do you remember the smell of chlorine
and the look of the water leaning left and right
distorting the lights at the bottom of the pool.
do you remember the sound of a wet bathing suit slapping the side concrete
first the feeling of embarassment
the the feeling of comfort to know
i am as vulnerable as you.
I slept like a child that night
with my toes peeking out of my sleeping bag
and a clump of grass that i pulled from the hill.
it was tucked safely into my pillow.
we snored at breakfast for
we knew the eggs were uncooked.
and the blood washed off in the pool
but the misquitoes bit again.
and i picked the scabs
after you scratched them to existance
i still havent seen if you have the scars.