How can you want to kiss me
Every second of every day
My face doesn’t feel like my own:
Stained with the water that leaked from my eyes
A broken faucet;
But also, with the ones I somehow held back
For the pipes bursting inside my veins.
I shake my head, hair flies: it covers my distorted face
“What are you doing?”
Unease and amusement in your hot chocolate eyes
“If I shake my head enough,
shake the sadness away?”
“Yes” your lips mould the syllable
They arc at the corners
The assertiveness stands me to attention.
It seems I needed to shake my head
For you to remind me it’s alright to be despair;
And with that
some of the sorrow took a vacation.
If you still want to kiss my water-stained canvas
It means the marks are not forever
And I will recognise my face again.