coconut sunscreen worked into old bruises
slow, circular, praying we can sweeten what we survived
the skin might forgive if it smells right
***
summer comes back and I come back with it
tongue tasting something reckless already there
body remembering hands, heat, the way breath gets taken and given back wrong
***
the bruise never left
just changed colors in better light
violet to yellow to something almost gold
***
I press it
like checking fruit
like it might answer
***
we lay ourselves out anyway
on sheets that hold other people’s shapes
on nights I leave my phone facedown
**
there is always a moment
where pressure turns
where the body leans forward first
***
and the bruise deepens
***
I think this time I will stay intact
I think a lot of things in this kind of light
***
but the night keeps opening
and I keep stepping into it
***
like I have mistaken abandon for something sacred
like I have decided it is
***
summer doesn’t promise anything
it never did
***
it just shows up
***
and I go
every time
I go
About the Creator
Fatal Serendipity
Fatal Serendipity writes flash, micro, speculative and literary fiction, and poetry. Their work explores memory, impermanence, and the quiet fractures between grief, silence, connection and change. They linger in liminal spaces and moments.
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