Last night I took my clicky pen
and drew images, shapes, and lines
all over my arms.
On my hands I wrote words
from my wrists to the tips of my fingers,
then wove colors between them
and traced my drawing with markers.
On my legs and back
are ink prints.
Others’ artwork and words
are woven, permanently, into my skin.
As I washed away the colors and ink,
watching my work disappear,
I wonder if I’ll ever be brave enough
to place my words on my skin