Ripped Open

Stolen by snapshots
my memories have faded
like the bruise upon my arm
but I am still limping
and deeper than flesh wounds
my scars are still itching
await the next blow.

four four two thousand four
(shodan poem #4)

I
this is what i remember:
limping down fifth avenue
in the drizzle
waiting for the bus
the after buzz of adrenaline rush
a bloody mary brunch in soho
laying in my lover's arm
after a hot bath
happy it is over
and wondering later what was it for?

II
would i think i’d earned it he asked
when the belt was tied around my waist
and thinking no i said i didn’t know
would have to see in the moment
and he said very zen
and she smiled like i would know in a moment