Prisoner

We were teenagers the first time your skilled lips met mine.
You were winter’s cold and dusted with new-fallen snow.
The shadows that lay beneath your haunted eyes
Matched the bruises tattooed upon your ivory skin.


We were far from alone when our calloused hands met on accident.
He stepped out of the shadows and threw you to the frozen ground.
No noise escaped your gritted, cracked teeth as he beat you. Yet no
Amount of courage could hide the fear bleeding from your almond eyes.


We were barely adults the first time I met the softness of your skin.
Life radiated from your emerald eyes as your battered
Body and blood-crusted mouth moved
Against me in ways my body could not translate.


We were in the cemetery when we finally met without fear.
He was stone cold, buried six feet under a headstone. You
Were well dressed and newly wealthy. We both were newly
Divorced. Finally free from bruises, you proposed upon his grave.