hiding in the forest as she holds

your hand so delicately in her's

“this is going to hurt a little,”

she tells you,

sliding her anthame between your pressed palms

your entire body tenses at the slice,

her's stays totally still

she places the now damp knife on the forest floor,

letting pine needles stick to the blood

you can feel your blood mingling together

and you feel a little sick to your stomach

she leans in and kisses you very lightly on your mouth,

almost like a formality

when she pulls back she stands,

pulling you up to your feet with her

“you okay?”

she asks and you nod, a little dizzy

“i did this because i love you,”

she tells you, and you nod again,

because you know, oh god do you know

you look in your mirror when you get home

and you notice that you have

lipstick smudged around your mouth

it's not yours.