One Day

One day
you'll find that
polaroid shot of us.
You'll notice the faint;
ghost-like, tyre tracked
skin, belonging to me.
Marvel and ponder at
the state of me.
You'll feel the curve
on my neck, which could
have been pristine porcelain,
but was damaged by your
contact.

You'll trace the
microscopic love-bites
your trade mark lips
did leave, follow the
purple-pink bruises,
moth shaped leaping
from your angry, love
drunk hands, threatening
to trap their delicate wings.
One day you'll see-
the weight of your love
tattooed all over my skin.