Late Night Poem

I wrote you a poem on my body,
Lying naked in my bed.
I scrawled the words all down my torso.
I wrote your name. I loved you then.

I felt. I felt
These marks were real,
This ink on skin,
It removed the distance, brought you in,
Inside, close. I drew the outline of your ghost.

When I woke
It was all smudge on the sheets,
Deep blue smears on my Caucasian skin,
Half-ideas blurred in the sprawl;
A more suitable expression.