Suture - Apr 25

The subtle thread which mends a laceration is woven through fresh, tender flesh to bind disreconciled horizons, disentwined by words sharper than the knives of damnation. Then, even once that painful separation is closed, there’s still so much left to attend to,—wash the wound, put bandages, amend echoes saddled with righteous indignation. A stitch is but the means of tying tight the gasping gash; but time alone can heal the skin which suffers the ego’s trauma.— Slow bonds, forming from the wrecks of the drama, will join again disjointed sides, and seal the split. The scar will long remain for sight.