Maimed

Your curiosity pulled the poisoned dirk of loneliness from the deepest chamber of my quaking heart. With steady hand pressed to the open wound, the healing process began as wonder turned to love. After washing away festering insecurities then wrapping me in the gauze of your embrace, you breathed into me new desire to subsist. Your devotion became an unguent balm. Kissing my heart made it well. Now I wear an untoughened scar capable of growing stronger through days and nights of togetherness or gaping again should the straight-bladed dagger of solitude be repositioned. I tremble, hold my breath, in frightened anticipation, loathing the thoughts of lovelessness cutting through me again.