Smudges and Trails

Sometimes

Times

I can’t admit

To even myself

I think of smudges

And you.

I think of deep red trails

My lips could leave

If I had the gumption

To cross over

And take, just take.

I think of smudges

Marking up

Borders and lines and territories

Precious order

That you love so much.

I think of wrecking

Red carnage on your skin.

Precious chaos

That I love so much.

I think

Of contrasts

And blood red lips

And the jut of a hip

The line of a back

And curve of a neck

An imprint of teeth

And red lipstick

Marking a temporary claim

I like such claims the best.

I think I could

Write an epic on you

Of you

With smudges and trails

And red, red lips.