a septum piercing dangling there before the dip before his lips
a precocious reminder he wouldn't let anyone punch him in the face
another greg did it
he was just some guy to me, around harvard square
someone jim lived with, but they both got out of the shit, kicked habits
i asked greg, the first one
brand me, cut me, anything to leave a mark.we never got around to it
but one day in the shower, he carved into himself a beautiful oak
most lovers carve themselves into trees, not the other way around
but that was greg, and us
this greg, the last one
laid me down after he did it, fishing his needle through me like there was
something on the other side other than my left nostril. my face went white
he asked me if i was okay and i said i had a mixtape of his, for an erin in 1993
the scars were left unseen
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