Not Letting Go
Cold
hand
numbing
holds this lump
of anguish and hate
trying to flee beneath the skin
restless and persistent, inside thy vein its throbbing...
then
freed,
but bleeds
from the core
when ache is fading;
hand seeks while its fingers' open,
nobody to hold, now clasped its own as palm with thorns.
Copyright © Teresita Cailo | Year Posted 2008
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