in the sweat and dust over my shoulderblades
you write your names
with a fingertip
with a nail
engraving them in my flesh

names, names
all these names of the women you've had before me
and those who will come after

and I give in to them
as always I give in to it
making vain attempts to give you my names
but never can I tell - from the look in your eyes,
wether they stick to you...

and in the game we play, you and I,
I may not prove myself to be scattered
I may not be confused
or the game will end in all these names only
my name, someone elses