we compare wounds

Once when she was nine
She was playing in an abandoned house
The ancient door gave way
And a nest of wasps
Spilled down her back

And stung
And stung
Sting, stang, stung

She whispers low into the phone
barely I can make out the words
But it seems she says:

Even now I can see the scars
Even today
I feel numb where they tapped me

like a bittersweet human touch
I can remember

One comment

  1. What a hard thing to have as part of memory. Reliving, in this case, the down side of the human ability to remember and recall.

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