Before you, I was a blank page
an empty college-ruled space
longing for beauty between lines
With your gentlest touch, you wrote
your love on me in your best attempt
at calligraphy, in simple words and drew
maps of a new life
for us. you turned me
into art, never hesitating
at the creases in my bent pages,
filling my margins
with joy. When I panicked,
you reminded me
it was all
temporary
Six weeks later.
I erase until the rubber shreds
between my fingers
pink strings that try to absorb all
that will ever exist between us
I cover
every inch of my fragile pages
with new stories of faraway places
but still, I bear your pencil traces -
echoes of your love
the indentations of your pretty words
where you marked me as yours.
