7 Years

Your face in my mind

like blood in my mouth

Although you spoke like a poem

You could spit venom better

And it burnt holes in my clothes

the embers melting pot holes in my skin

That I’m just learning to seal over

Its seams poking below my sleeve

And when it gets hot enough on February days

My shoes melt to the asphalt

And it sticks to my feet

No matter how hard I scrub it won’t dissolve

And all I can hope is that in 7 years

There won’t be a cell left on me

That you ever got to touch

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