when the razor skips over thin skin
and blood wells up,
falling on the shower floor like rain,
you never notice.
like whiskey in a parched throat,
the pulse and burn
of ink pooled on your stomach,
black and spangled with light,
scarlet footprints on dark carpet,
a stubbed toe, cracked nail weeping
camouflaged tears.
the stain is still there, hidden,
until one day it disappears,
that secret piece of you,
and you never notice at all.
