if it wasn't your soul...
or the flawless symmetry of your face,
or even that stainless yet smokey smile
then it was the statue that they built of you
in the city
and how even the birds knew your name.

between laughter-like sounds,
i can still hear them calling you.
you made your mark.
not on my heart
but                                                        ­                               on the other

side

                                            in an unexpected space

on my rib cage
a tiny "xo"
marks my skin forever


in black ink.
©