Deep down,
and even here,
on the surface of this mess,
I wanted you to tell me what you found disgusting,
the wrinkle on the right side of my forehead,
the rings around my wrists that were not from leftover rubber bands
the birthmarks that formed some hideous, nonexistent constellation on my arm
the scar on the back of my scalp,
from when someone else's ignorance,
that's all it was,
really
the coarseness of my fingernails,
the blue of my toenails,
from all the running I have done,
from what,
I still do not know,
save for you,
surely you were part of that
the stubble around my kneecap because I am forgetful,
the veins on my left leg because I was born into these blue tributaries
the fissures in my lips,
lips you had not asked for in a very long time
Or we could gloss this over,
good and good,
because we were starting to count down,
and I had come to that conclusion many years ago
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