truth is a secret kept for someone else
less raised and unnatural, duller
than the nightmare of truth
because the blade had been sharp - a mercy - 
the cut dazzled without pressure
until the inside made out
truth and all
secret and all 
wetter, darker, it looked deep
giddy, all senses nurse the gash
how to understand
a wound in the back
near the spine
blade between blades
the position of 
the past caught up
sliding its edge in long enough
to tell the truth. 

No comments: