By Marisa Silva-Dunbar

I wonder if wanting you will ever get easy. 

I feel like you’ve already carved your initials

into my shoulder—licked the blood clean.

When will you let me mark you and make you mine?

The nights your fingers are tangled in my hair,

and I’m tucked into the crook of your arm—

the world lulls; I wish we could stay

in the cocoon—no one else can touch us.

Making you see stars is not enough. The hours alone 

poke at my spine—it’s a cruel withdrawal; 

craving my cheek pressed against your chest,

hearing the watery thud of your heartbeat.

I miss the warmth of your skin—it would be simpler if we belonged to each other.

Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Latina poet. Her work has been published in work to a calm poetry zine, Amaryllis, Manzano Mountain Review, Bone & Ink Press, and Midnight-Lane Boutique. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry. Marisa is a contributing writer at Pussy Magic. She has work forthcoming in Dark Marrow, The Charles River Journal, Dear Reader, and Marias At Sampaguitas. Marisa is the founder and EIC of Neon Mariposa Magazine.

@thesweetmaris on Twitter and Instagram


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