Your Name is Tattooed on My Heart :: Reprinted in The Stray Branch

 

Listen :: Screeching Weasel :: Your Name is Tattooed on My Heart

Your Name is Tattooed On My Heart
We sit on my parents’ faded couch
his hand rests
on his worn black jeans.
I touch his wrist
he turns his palm
I run my finger over
dirt engrained calluses
fresh scrapes
half healed scabs.
I push my fingers between his.
He closes his hand
tightly around mine
looks at our hands
         I really love
                 how you are  so much cooler than other girls.

I look at our tangled
fingers –
as we listen to reruns
of Married with Children
chatter on the TV.

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