co-dependent homoerotic bone rot
At least,
your bones will always be the same
that tangled in mine
on walks home from school,
back in that little bit of time
before we became archived photos on instagram,
liked messages,
other sides of the country -
living out our plans with others
made when for womanhood we were hungry,
when our seeds were sown in that
leisure centre park -
our first attempt at girlhood
fresh limbs playing games
i thought i was winning
but at least,
when your bones rot,
the earth will know
that we went down that sled together,
landed tangled in the snow
tied together through our invisible
string,
our bones forever,
tree stump rings
of girls you leave behind;
im sure my mark is there somewhere
even if you don't want to remember.
i'm there even if you never think of me again,
you'll hear my name
and you'll be tumbling down the hill,
plastic sled edges cutting through your mittens,
the girl who you told you loved
before either of you knew what that meant,
with her legs wrapped around you
holding you tighter
plummeting towards the unknown,
towards the answers you will find
but never be able to share with each other.
but your bones will know -
they will ache
and they will rot,
but they will always know.
-mauvelvr
