Two little bruises
give you away
one on my right wrist
one on my left.
Imprints of your thumbs
as you held me
like I was the only thing
keeping you afloat.
Now just smudges,
like newspaper print
but the stain of you
lingers.
I touch them
to remind myself
for one moment
I was needed.
Now I watch them
yellow
into the pink of my skin
like leaves
rotten.
