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.
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