I’ve always been drawn to sentences:
spent sunrise picking at covered clots;
veins growing lush with unsheltered heart,
profuse & spilling drops that
take years of self harm but eventually amount to
one very disconsolate flood.
soaked in red tributaries,
caged in sore body &
the newest sun.
smear some copper from my thumb
when I pick up my phone to
take a picture of my torn knees
in the rising dawn.
find a filter first.
to cloak my embattled joints
(hide your armor)
before I send you the scab-spattered snapshots
I’m a woman of course