Forehead Kisses

I don’t like the way you kiss me
You open your mouth too wide.
And I don’t like the way you scratch my spine
It’s like you’re trying to crawl inside.

I’m afraid by the way you hold me
Like you’re one degree away from a clutch.
You splay your nails, tangles in my hair,
That exhale wasn’t from your tender touch.

You didn’t ask about the cut on my lip
From the way I always bite it.
You wouldn’t tell me about your birthmark
Or how you use your hair to hide it.

If you watched the shape of my eyes as you
Charted the map of my skin
Maybe you’d see a hint of restraint
Before you decided to let yourself in.

I didn’t say no but I didn’t say yes, though maybe silence
Is a subtle art. I thought of the blood
And the forehead kisses you gave
And how they would surely pull me apart.