The Wound

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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