Scratches

the scratches on your back will heal and fade. the scartches on my head board never will. in ten years, when i pass this beautiful wooden bed on to my own daughter, there will be ragged scartches almost hidden in the whirls of the wood. what will i say if my child askes where they came from? will i explain how its possible to be swept away with someone? will i lie? will i laugh and tell her i dont remember. as though i could forget. as happy as i am to be your friend, the scratches on my head board wont go away the way yours will. i will remember. always. because i cant forget. what ever were we thinking? were we thinking? i dont remember that. i just remember the insane impulse to kiss you. i remember your face above me and your hands on my skin. mostly i remember laughing with you after. i am glad that we can still laugh. and now you laugh naked with someone else. someone better for you than i am. she leaves marks on you. but the marks i left will be there too. in my head board. for the rest of my life.