Tender Wounds

Ice cold, bitter in its wake The last truly cold autumn that touched the world A precipice of endless promise For those willing to leap in it Those words meant nothing, were nothing Nothing but a flimsy plastic shield To deflect my flimsier shale knife From excising the truth from wicked lies In all rot lies rebirth Fertility and fecundity from things fetid and festering Two hedgehogs bled dry through contact Reaching out for something to make sense of Tender moments, tender wounds A broken foot, a fileted cleft In moments of doubt and distrust Dutifully caring for the other as we pledged Sunset, sunlit Aflame in the orange glow of Sol The only truths we could accept connected Clenched, drenched and parted with a kiss Bitter and desperate Intent solely on wounding each other Plaintive mewls for connection were ignored As actions of espionage and subterfuge Words meant nothing after all A cry for peace? For love? To return to what once was? Or a trojan horse, rupturing within? Love was war, and all was fair So I waited for the end and took it when offered Hooks and claws tearing chunks of flesh from me Leaving tender wounds I still lick in remembrance Whenever sad words come surging back