skin.

i tattooed the clouds
on my skin last night.
every inch was
moving with the insistent
pull of the wind &
i grew my
hair long again
to feel it fall off in
october. it fell in clumps
& gathered
at my feet with the rest 
of the leaves--
blood-red & brown--
& when you touched me 
you felt the sky move
across you-- 
a laugh of static &
storm--
i stood your hairs 
on end like soldiers & you told
me to roll-up the windows--
veil me in fog-- your bride
of backseat love & 
driving to 
park in strip malls to say 
i love you in the kind
of way you can't in a bedroom.
you can kiss my blood
into rain but you can't
take my skin--
it's not something that
can be shared-- & you will call
me selfish for leaving you
only with storm clouds painted
on your shoulders--
i point to my arms & say
here i tilled the rows
of my wrists to write
my self-love in thunder--
my freckles grow into 
watermelon-- 
swallow the black
seeds & grow vines from
your throat--
silly backseat-lover
with a mouth
like a window full of fog--
leave hand prints on 
my collar bones--
i have had match sticks burry
their heads in my forearms--
i light the birthday candles
with my fingernails-- 
this body
has know windows-- 
this body is in  
violent love with itself &
this is what loving a boy
full of clouds is like--
i don't want you to eat the 
fog away with that mouth
of yours-- 
i want you 
to pass the clouds over your
shoulders & feel how heavy 
water can be when it 
becomes a storm-- we're about
to rain-- we're about to rain--
roll up the windows 
the water is getting in.