I Cannot Love Like a Leper

I love like a leper.

Putting all the odd bits and bobs of me
out on a shelf,
an eye, an ear, a favored toe.

Hobbling about on twinned islands, made for lamed people like us.
Painting other’s faces with mercury,
gazing with one longing good eye across the strait,
from our baths of virgins blood.

Begging bees to sting us, bring our nerves back to life.

You were never safe,
and now you’re dangerous.

5 thoughts on “I Cannot Love Like a Leper

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