The Wound, against healing

Rupture breaks through the skin,

Bleeds, leaves a gash, cools,

Comes to rest.


On my back the cooled flow

Creates a ridge, a gap.

I watch the searing glow solidify,

A map of its path across flesh.

I scratch the scab to see inside,

The raw wet pain of my body,


Your body in pain, this thin place

Where we each live, the wellspring

We share.

About alicebarrett

Small town writer
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