Right Arm, Burnt

I watch as white streak of quick pain

turns to dull ache, angry red line

then fades to irritated pink stretch,

smirking and waxy with newness

edges blending into old, unharmed skin

A yelp is a protruding scab.

I watch as body heals itself

patiently stitching back what

damage I have done

methodically, line by line

never rushing, never scolding except

in that first moment of sizzled skin,

scalding.

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