Infectious

A blistering scar
Uneven skin and flesh
Held together with a new, vulnerable layer
Skin of an inner, pinker sort
Remnants of the wounds
Large, gaping holes
Infections caused by the slivers of you

The stitches where we sewed ourselves
One to the other
Each sinew through your flesh and mine
A painful pleasure
The rhythmic motion of the needle
Closer and closer until joined
Two to make one

But with each pull apart
We broke the threaded connection
Until face-to-face, alone
With bleeding flesh wounds
Where we once joined

Now the bleeding has ended
No more picking at the scabs
No more tears
Only this long jagged scar
Running down the length of my body
Pink and tender
Covered with make-up
So that you can't see my pain

But late at night the ache returns
Deep in my dreams, and in my flesh
By my side, where you once were
No make-up can fool me
I cannot anaesthetize myself.

Ily, 2001