the scars on my back

Every once in a while, you'll hold me like you never want to let go.

Its that kind where my ribs mold together,

      and my chin remembers just how nicely it fits into the niche of your collarbone.     

           Your fingers become hooks, and as they slide into the skin on my back,

                 I tell myself that love is pain.

I entwine my body with yours even more.
And then you leave. But you always come back.
I'm dreading the day you don't.
I know a part of you wishes you could stay forever.

The scars on my back tell me so.