Haven’t you ever seen a girl with glass in her skin?
The broken kind: shattered jars and smashed windows,
jagged edges, dip dyed tips red –
looks good on the both of us walls, too.
Pretend walls with Wonder Woman posters hanging,
the Wonder Woman with big boobs, never the other.
Walls you smash holes in with your cut up fist – my bad.
It’s the skin. I warned you, half –heartedly,
warnings lost in a sea of words,
I talk too much when I forget my lines.
We now have a matching pair,
scars, that is.
My palms read havoc,
in the morning yours will too.
Stay long enough and I might spell words words of wisdom:
never touch girls with glass in their skin.