trial the third
A scaley white patch of desire in my groin is unsoothed by milk
and salt I scratch and bandage the waste alotment of skin
untouched and unhealed under the cliff of my belly spreads
the fissured bark of old man pine creeping towards my breasts
it snags my skin painfully taut each day I scratch it away each night
it blooms again like feeding coral until the day he flenses it
from my body with his curved whaler's knife.