If I were to get a tattoo, it would be of your smile on the face of a wild salmon. Some caricature of its flushed body, plucky eyeballs, and your jutting Cupid’s bow tugged upwards. I want to stitch you into my skin. But that image is too intricate for this morning. This morning is for poking at your mushrooms and watching the sunlight transform our bed into something noble. The sun rises, and with it do the stripes on your arm. Shadow-sun-shadow-sun. One minute my bite mark burns orange, the next it’s faded; this old epidermis, this decaying fungi.
Amelia is a college student majoring English. She loves A24 horror films, fantasy novels, and dissecting characters on the Personality Database.