weekday lover (how do you remove ink stains from leather?)

you are my weekday lover
you are my mondays
you are the ink spilled into my left hand
the stubborn wart on my thumb
and the birthmark on my left cheek

you are the pack a day i never smoked
the price of gas
grocery lists written in pencil
and the blurred line between too little and too much

you are my left eye catching up to my right
the spikes in my blood sugar
the envelope with no address
and ken sander's after close

you are the story i never added to snapchat
the nights when forty minutes was too far away
a third grade game of tag
and the mornings when limits were only guidelines

you are the butterflies' wings stretched
and pinned
to the typewriter's keys
the reluctant pacing of a semi colon
and cd 2 of a book on tape

you can't decide between pepsi and cola
you wear the heart of a girl whom (you say)
you no longer love
but your lips belong to me tonight
even if your hands belong to her
and i love the way you look on a motorcycle

and i tell myself
this is a crush
this is a little crush
this is a phase
this is a hookup
but i remember your calluses in the morning
and the color of your eyes in the afternoon
and i'm reading genesis after the sun goes down
hoping to find your fingerprints in the dog-eared pages
and the italics

 i'm looking for your teeth on the sand
and your voice on the water
and i can't find your laugh next to the nostalgia
no matter how high the asking price

and i don't love you
but i think i want to

i'm asking myself how to remove these ink stains
from my leather jacket
and i'm piercing every part of my heart
to look more like a rebel
but blue has always fit my waist
better than black
and leather broke my wrists

i want to be your broken bones on the dresser
and the last prayer your father said
even if the sun never loved the moon
and grape juice is too sweet for august

you are my mondays
and my tiptoe kisses
and laughing on your kitchen floor
and my last "i miss you"
and an unanswered phone call
and the apples and cheese on your front porch
and an a+ tattoo
and i'm getting less suicidal
and my calls for help are fewer and farther between
and i'm going to college
but not the college you're going to
and i'm praying more
and we're not getting married
and you will never be my saturdays

but you are my mondays