mark this day.

paint it in roses.

place a flower in her downturned hair,

Perhaps a mariposa.

Perhaps another rose.

But yesterday

worn into my heart

was the burning ache,

the scar of someone else

and it stayed

Will you remember when you forgot

that day you left your shoes on the front porch

and you swore it was me

it was me all along

so I brought another pair

but by the time I got to you

the bruises were gone

my hair stayed

untied

the mariposas

died

and the roses

bright as they were yesterday

years one day

the day you told me

and I felt your pain