© tuttysan 2011
My flesh has no skin
My wound no scab
And that subtle scratch
You didn’t make
Is making me bleed
You reach your hand across the table
The one that’s wise
It cleanses the dirt and as it goes
It weaves me of compassion a new skin
Dressed in understanding
Sealed in love
Glowing with passion
Hand your hand
That we may jump into the abyss,
Confidently
Reach from across the table
Befriend my hurt
That I may be naked
with my bleeding wounds
and my skinless flesh
At ease, before you.
By tuttysan © 2007
I have only one word for the last stanza of this poem: awesome. The poem on the whole is good, but the last five lines are freaking awesome!
Never thought a compliment from you would feel so good! Smile. Thank you.
I have an unreasonable request dear Tuttysan. I fell so in love with parts of this poem, that I ended up using them in a poem of my own. If you would allow me, I shall put it up in my blog (with, of course, you as a co-author). I can mail it to you if you want to read it before (dis?)approving. Please let me know.
I agree- this is an awesome poem!