for the time being

The tip of your finger, your tongue, your eyelash outlines my silhouette in semi-permanent stain. I knew from the first touch you were, we were only temporary. Only. Not wholly. For the time being. But your mouth imprints my own and for something half-hearted and incomplete, you've made a home out of me.


An installment of Lucy Writes Crap Poetry on Her Phone perhaps if i unstitch these scars wounds seemingly bound together by temp- orary measures stapled with safety pins. tear my heart apart, bleed myself dry off from the rain. it'll (i'll) be enough. will you refasten the locks when you shut the door or (just) will you replace …

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