something or other about blood being thicker than water.
“it must be nice to have such a big family,”
it stuns us both;
the silence is meant to be impartial.
he has his hand on my thigh,
thumb speaking sacraments into tainted skin;
i’ve caught the curls of his hair between my fingers,
wrapped tight like the rest of our interlocked limbs.
lying messy amongst messier things --
in one short, sure breath i say:
“no. not really.”