Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Tracing
The tattooes lined his body,
Up and down.
They were sins;
They were triumphs
And I trace my finger along
Them all, in memory
Of slitting through the darkness.
When he spoke of them,
And he rarely did,
He'd talk of how they
Were instructions, and then
He'd disappear once more
Into the shadows.
I'd miss him, and how
They'd feel under my touch.
"Pick your poison,"
He'd spread his wings
And dance among the stars
But never again would we
Discuss the nature of his markings,
Although now, I'd trace
Them with my eyes.
2-8-10
Up and down.
They were sins;
They were triumphs
And I trace my finger along
Them all, in memory
Of slitting through the darkness.
When he spoke of them,
And he rarely did,
He'd talk of how they
Were instructions, and then
He'd disappear once more
Into the shadows.
I'd miss him, and how
They'd feel under my touch.
"Pick your poison,"
He'd spread his wings
And dance among the stars
But never again would we
Discuss the nature of his markings,
Although now, I'd trace
Them with my eyes.
2-8-10
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