when i come back home to you

I will have different skin, longer hair, new holes, fresh stains.

the sweet red of a summer strawberry
on this stiff white blouse.
and as we embrace, as we kiss,
you'll look down
and i will have stained you, too.
please,
don't use bleach.

when your right is in front of left,
look both ways.
you cannot find yourself
if you do not
lose yourself.

get lost,
the fruit is sometimes bitter.
and
if a wave comes over your head,
and the salt burns your eyes,
gurgle something with your round mouth,
I'll swim back.

the fibers of the fabric will hold on.