I wonder about the math of healing
Send me away for 28 days and I’ll come back
Clean of you
My skin is not a slate
It takes seven years to grown all new
Skin cells
Seven years until you never touched me
But you touched me still
I am stained with the memory of you
Forever altered by the numbers
The addition and then the subtraction
Of your presence
Equals an eternal stain on my skin of skins
On my slate of slates
I can never wash you away
This poem is about Blue Berries?
ReplyDeleteBlack Berries, you were very close though :)
Deletewell, once you go black I guess. Are all the poems on your site about the same fruit?
ReplyDeleteRecently, yes, all my poems have been about the same bad black berry.
Delete