Tattoo

Tattoo

I accidentally saw a picture of you today.

I say accidentally because I wasn't searching for you...

per say.

I just happened to be checking on someone who is linked to you

Just like I've been in denial of doing nearly daily for the past five months

And wouldn't you know it, there were two.

You've always had a habit of sneaking up on me

and causing an involuntary reaction.

You looked so different.

Younger, put together, the messy romance scraped off

but the thing that really took my breath away...

was that you looked...happy.

You wear New York well.

It was transformative.

I recognized it immediately as being the thing

always missing from our photos.

It seemed like a lost lifetime ago.

The thought of us.  Of a used to be you and me.

I only knew it was real because I know that on your ribcage

on your left side

under that suit is a tattoo.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

The size and shape and placement

on your skin.

Your skin.  The texture.  The color.

How they’d change.

The bumps, the imperfections, the smell I hope I never forget.

What beauty.  What staggering fucking beauty.

That secret reminder on your left side.  

Or...was it the right?