The pier at dusk is as good a place as any to stare
at the drop of dried blood on my white sneakers from the life I live,
the life you want no part of
never did.
In the lost time we made
between being ourselves and becoming our parents
we forgot how to talk
without our naked flesh
bearing our words
like tattoos of each other’s name that we would regret
if we could
only fall in love with someone new.