I put flamingo feathers bouquetted at your doorstep,
wrapped watermelon flesh around your taffy tongue,
left you sticky & soaked licking fuchsia up my forearm.

Breathe in our euphoria but keep those bottled magenta
mornings away from me, shoved into the back pocket
of those jeans you’ve torn but won’t toss. I want you

to let go, but you sink into this, into us. You tattoo me onto
the split flesh beneath your winter burned cheeks, stain
your skin a busted bubblegum. You turn pink, soaked in cheap

champagne or that bottle of rosé you tried to refuse. You look
at me & I remember your blushed breathing, nails burrowed
into my shoulder, how in that moment I still loved you.

& now, you’ve gone pink. Like up all night irises, like my first
stuffed animal, neck wrung with ribbon. I watch you,
eyelashes blossoming into carnations, pastel petals

over hooded eyes. Come candy mouthed, all puckered
& popped. Come into me, again & again. This time I’ll be
the one to swallow you whole & you can watch how sunrise

pools into seawater, how I cup it between my palms, drink
its salt, its rose quartz beading across my knuckles. Unhinge
your jaw for me, play pretend, believe you are forgiven.