Two Weeks From Now

Two weeks from now:
skin draped in pink,
blushed from blood,
our heat levels rise.

Finding patterns,
in syllables muttered.

Words provide bandage,
for my wounds
that never seem to heal.

Tongue-tied:
we disengage,
only to divulge
our rights and wrongs.

It binds,
the me to you.

Bloodlines tie
the noose around my nape,
bruises in full bloom.

I've memorized the line,
from collar to collar.
The space between,
your neck and your shoulder.
And how my head
fit perfectly in place.

But you,
are the words on my tongue.
The thoughts behind my brain.
I wish I'd told you once,
kaleidoscope dreamers:
shipwrecked lungs,
buried under truth.

Two weeks from now:
lullaby's mused to deaf ears.
Time slips like ribbon,
between bruised fingers.