i wrote another neat bundle of words
knotted them with coarse string
caught my finger in the bow; snarled
packaged my hurt efficiently and quick
licked my lips but
          the guilt made them dry.

i saw your paper cuts
they were raw and red
my mouth had ripped into your skin.
i made you a gift, see?
it is not much
but i do not know how to bandage the wounds that will scar.