The Cuts On My Hands Won't Heal
like little islands of red flesh
they soak in yellow callus
and have the privilege to grow
but
never to fully cover those crimson craters
revealing
the squirming worms deep inside us
I hear dropping fresh blood on those
cracked and crinkled fingers
will almost repair
them
children of another country
whose name you shouldn’t
pronounce correctly
works best
or at least
that’s what the TV said