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Rejection
Has silent protrusions, a stinging thing.
Pierces stealthily, wrecks
a rend to the seams of our being.
Is inevitable. Belongs
to the world's biscuit tin of metaphors:
the splinters, the bramble, and needles with
shining ends.
And us, curious touchers, notoriously
penetrable, bleed
like orange yolks, each with reasons for tenderness.
It is not our fault that sharpness exists.
© Mav P.
Pierces stealthily, wrecks
a rend to the seams of our being.
Is inevitable. Belongs
to the world's biscuit tin of metaphors:
the splinters, the bramble, and needles with
shining ends.
And us, curious touchers, notoriously
penetrable, bleed
like orange yolks, each with reasons for tenderness.
It is not our fault that sharpness exists.
© Mav P.
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