Night Wounds
Jody Zolli
Scissile, swift, searing revelation
Prying deep beneath the breastbone
Brings forth a foundering gasp.
The cut comes, unexpected
A quicksilver strike
Wicked turns of speech reveal
An inadvertent ability to flay.
Spark to tinder, anger flies
Neither able to apologize
Tears gleam in stricken eyes
A momentary salve, one cries
Mercurial and merciless
Strop words as swords to razor sharp
Seek to excise, cleanse ourselves.
Excoriation asks a careful aim
Imprecise, we often miss the mark
Find, instead, that anotherīs flesh
Yields more easily than our own.
Shaken, hurt, we sheathe
Clinging close, both breathe
Watch wounds seethe
Seek sleepīs lethe
