Togaviridae
Jul 10, 2017 · 1 min read
Rash thoughts plagued my flesh since yesterday morning,
so I flayed myself and hung the skin
to cure for a day or two under the shade
so the sun wouldn’t make the stain permanent.
I sat on the steps as My Love watched the folds
dance and whip in the breeze.
I thought, what a fine, speckled spectacle:
Sprinkled blood on vestments;
A bronze hide roiling in the currents that pass,
that each by one reclaimed a crimson freckle
until there remained the recognition
of an adequate garment.
So I squeezed the pins and entered the sleeves
and My Love helped sew my stitches.
31 July, 2016
