Becoming Sarah's Epitaph

Don't misplace your unshelved love
within my heart.

I am not she
and yet I can feel sincerity in my bones
it runs thrills of sparks across my scarred skin
nails trail like car wheels over speed bumps
and I am alive again

She was your everything
and who am I
to step across your threshold
shall I place my feet in her ribboned shoes
tuck her hair behind my ear

or will you remove yourself from the preconceived notions
that I am known in an instance of eye contact
or a weekend of slowly mingling breath

Are my eyes blue when you look at me?


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