i want to want the way i used to want

[applgreenicecrm]

I know the soul can knit like skin -
quiet sisters, one bare, one thin.
Yell the pain with red ripped flesh,
weep at the wounding and weep as it's closed.

I know the purpled scarring fades and
I know the crackling fire will die
next to those two empty rocking chairs
and abandoned coils of yarn.

The body personified luxuriates,
creaks and crumples.
It burns, it rages, it swells and tosses.

Wrap it in sheets then,
let the wrinkles cradle
and the satin sigh around waist-curves and
tug up the calves with a way so familiar.
Clean and dry, that's always the key:
fresh bandages, air to breathe, and
time enough.