I see it:
In your cautious movements,
From the stillness in your stare,
On your skin.
I hear it:
In stifled hisses of pain,
From metal tinkling in your bag,
On the playlist of songs that scream-
YOU ARE BROKEN
I smell it:
In your sleeve- desperate bleaching,
From your bag- antiseptic,
On your skin- salt and iron.
I taste it:
In your food- why won't you eat?
From your drink- tepid and untouched.
On your lips- cold...
Salt and iron again.
I feel it:
In your summer-sweat long sleeves,
From your stinging tears on my chest,
On your skin-
Sunken lines raised and rising.
I know it:
In our skin,
From from our past,
On flesh that will never let us forget,
But will always remind us to forgive.
