Witches Mag, Issue #5: Time

T AT T O O T R A I L S

By Kennedy Acker It was never our right time.

We met when I was too young. Folding shirts and taking inventory. I was way too excited to be able to spend that night with you. I was in awe of your counting skills. You counted the khakis with one look, and I had to touch every single one. That nonchalant smirk behind your coffee cup as I confirmed the number. Butterflies had never hurt before. I relished in them, so delightfully painful that I dreamt of their cocoons as home.

Time passed. I was older.

I had to touch every single one of your tattoos, too. Trace every line. My fingers rising and lowering again in the trail over your veins. You told me I was going to put myself to sleep.

I wish I didn’t have to fight that sleepiness. I wish I could’ve molded into your body and rested there forever.

I could hear the waves crashing on the shore. The most delicious drowsiness. The moon drenched your face in the most intoxicating light. It was cold out. As cold as your shoulder would be, I would come to learn.

Time passed. We were older.

But I was still young and in a never-ending love. I loved you beyond any other love I had or would have.

But. 52