everything light about you is numb.
not a string to remember entwining —
how you held the edges of my body
to sit in tight until its dam of blood is sealed.
you now look like laughter
with glaring teeth that itch
and call on my fingers for a subtle rub.
I still remember that day
you came out of her tongue
as fast as lightning strikes a liar,
as quick as a stench of dead meat.
you said hurting me was freedom,
it was a genie finally leaving its bottle,
and so, here I am with a wound,
that is now known as a tailing scar.