Her belly was a bag of broken glass,
that I could not have fixed had I tried.
Instead I took what she offered,
and gave back as best I could.
But the crude stitches and rough care
that my fingers and lips applied
will not last long.
Her wounds are too deep,
and my hands still too clumsy and unpractised
for our night together to have done her much good;
to have healed her at all.

AcB 01.01.01