I think it hurts the most after the cut
is done, the mark already made, when blood
is just arising fresh. Endorphins flood
the brain but do not force the new gap shut.
It's like the way I felt after you left.
At first when you had walked away I watched
you disappear without a flinch. I notched
the lipstick case, my fingers steady, deft.
But then the salty blood arose and burned
my eyes just when I thought the time had come
to knit my two parts back into one.
I hid my dreams, the fact that I now yearned
to take the time away. If only it
could be; my cuts undone, my love unquit.
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