I wish I could draw
with soft dark lines on perfect white
I would sketch a woman
sitting in a tub
knees tight beneath chin
hands unclear

she would be nothing but an outline
stark and vulnerable
colourless

then with gentle flickers
of stop-gap movement you would see the blade

not menacing or sinister
a scalpel
and my simply drawn woman
would ease the blade into her side
and you would see that there is no destruction in her intent

this is to cleanse

and I would bring the image close,
so you could see the gentle weeping wound
watch toxicity leaking from her flesh
and it would make sense to both of us

since times of leechings we have understood the dangers of letting ugliness fester inside our skin

but then we would step back
as the bath around my woman filled
red and toxic green
the simple lines of her submerged slowly by the ugliness from within

and you would look at my pictures then
and understand my meaning
that sometimes poison cannot be cut out
that you cannot give clean skin to someone made of scar tissue