Touched


Domineered by a touch
This phantom limb still needs a crutch,
You’re gone,
Detached,
A loss unmatched,
This skin is blemished
Unstructured,
Unfinished,
Warmth amongst flesh,
Your own meat and mess,
Eroded bones exposed,
The rot is imposed,
Taken from your breathing space,
Something’s lost that you can’t replace,
You’re incomplete,
As your entrails excrete,
Out your open wounds,
If only to touch you were immune.

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