scars

You asked if I had any scars
I thought, "what an odd thing to ask"
Because we both know the real scars
Lie underneath the epidermal layer
Where they scab up, but so easily bleed
When picked at

I say, "you'll just have to check when we get home,"
And I know you like that, because you
kiss me at a red light

I kiss you back, Licking the scabs inside your mouth

Wondering when you will bleed again