Merciful Maladies

Upon the white winter brow
Of an aged world
I stand, like a cliff
A black wound, unstitched,
Filed with crowfoot and claws,
Where my face without flesh
Lingers in iodine
So that under one pain I could forget
The origin of another

Author: TheHumanAnvil

Dust made alive

5 thoughts on “Merciful Maladies”

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