trace

the ring, it bells echoes of my prayers mix on the hand of gods and goddesses my knees deep, my knuckles white a mantra I keep repeating to leave the trace of you you’re no good for me, they say you’ve been the greatest amuse, my muse, tattooed on my skin — a birthmark I’ve had since I existed trembling lips, shaking hands, tore the paper and threw the pens, closed the door and broke the fence to leave the trace of you - vera