my monthly metamorphosis. i sit on a rock by the sea. my lungs fill and spill over the wind. i fill with the sand, with the rocks, with the sun. a childlike wonder with the world. pink coat, drag a foot in the tide pools.

I feel your eyes bare into me, soft. Soft like the time you held me in your car, chest on chest and flesh to flesh, and told me me to be more confident in myself because its makes me more beautiful. I am out of bertolucci film, i am drunk and you are beautiful but i will be sober and you will still be beautiful. Except i have grown to be the girl you cannot have and cannot touch. Though deep down my heart yearns for you it sings loudly for another, for the one you call a brother though not through blood. I wonder if when you stare at me you think of the things me and him did under the stars that night, since he asked you permission of course. But how much did he tell you? Did he tell you about how he kissed my collarbones like you wouldn’t, how he held my hips with a soft touch when you instead dug into them with desire, how he traced his tongue along me like i would fall apart when you ran yours along me with only a destination. Ive kissed your back, your legs, your fingers, the soft spot on your neck that meets your face. And here we stand blowing smoke into each others faces like were old friends. Friends. When our friends aksed if anyone had been together on the trip the air froze. Everyone in that room knew. And instead we just laughed. Falling back the way we had meant to. Still with every breath, i felt it on me, every gesture wa just my body under yours in the light, in the glow of the night. I despise you and love you and hate you and thank you. A teacher of so much and so little and so much growth from your rotten hands. Hands of caress and hands of malice and hands of beauty and hands of pain, i kissed everyone individually to let you know what you meant to me for you to never even know.