Quarantine Poetry Day 58-Inked

I still felt their hands

Upon my skin

Their names tattooed

Upon my tongue

And my love life

Flash art

Plastered in peripheral gaze

Each man

Holding a tattoo gun, waiting

To tease at my skin

I heard it in the morning

Instead of the birds

My body, a canvas

Possessed by each man

That whispered I love you

In my ear in error

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