I can pick up the needle any time.
Maybe at first I probed
Like a scared pre-med student --
Touch
Push
Finally jab --
But now I just plunge it
Through the pulpy membrane
Blood flowers
It's his blood
The blood he bleeds standing
In the driveway where
He's forever eight years old.
Wanting for me. I left.
Who am I kidding?
It's my blood. I want warm
communion. I want
Silence. Him leaning into me
Solid body truth.
I plunge the needle
To remind myself of his ache.
- Author: Chuck ( Offline)
- Published: July 14th, 2023 19:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
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