he stenciled his number
on my forearm with dark
ink. pressing hard, leaving
pink smears to enhance the
black of the pen, and
the importance of his actions.

silly me for walking home
in the rain.

even if the sky was to withold
its tears it would make no
difference on that mark

the omission of his name
left me befuddled on just
whose numbers baptized my
body anyway. though,

he promised ocean currents
and the brightest of stars; a
full moon and a warm beach;

but i live in a city that
never sleeps and i haven't
seen the stars in years

and as far as the sea goes
it would take too many hours
and i'm not sure i'm worth that wait.

i'm sorry, boy.

i like you, but i like
not hurting more.

06/12/2004

Author's Note: his name doesn't matter because he means the world to me. and we don't exist because i'm one-millionth of that.

Posted on 06/12/2004
Copyright © 2026 Lauren Pearl