Thursday January 31, 2019
Each one pointed to a different place of hurt
Here, the wreckage of the heart,
the spot where the rib cage was invaded, break and entering
Here, the spasm of the lower back,
deep breath a kind of torture
Acquitted somehow of all charges
I wanted to ask-Did I do this to you?
Was it by my hand you know this?
I should have asked where else it throbbed, reminded you of your punishable naked