bruises

In my dating profile
I listed my likes
and dislikes;
we won't be a match
if you voted for a convict
or you believe in imaginary
gods

I like car accidents
and underbaked cupcakes
and tired werewolves
and half-picked locks

In my spare time
I like to push on bruises
to keep them fresh;
you wonder
out loud
if they are yours
or mine

The answer doesn't matter
anymore;
nor
did
it
ever