A heart full of hurt
bleeds tears ’til
the leading edge of
that first shocking searing
wave of pain subsides.
Exquisite the martyr’s misery
and indulgent —
this sort of wound must be
carefully cosseted ’til full
effect be borne.
Savored.
Brazenly wallowed in.
Attention must be paid!
And then
the heart requires those true
words that start to
put things right.
Patience, please —
give chase and
warrens open in the underground
where it hides ’til it’s ready to
come out.
That heart.
Yours.
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