his cold fingers,

resting between mine.

my scars standing out and

my sleeves are slightly pushed up.

he can see them.

his hand lets go:

and he grabs my wrist

and stares at the cuts.

his lips,

his soft lips are placed on my left arm.

"I love you," he says.

I take my head and rest it on his shoulder.

"I love you too."

he throws his arm around me and

holds me close.

and we sit there,

on the swings of the playground

in plain, cold silence.