As winter loves to get dry
As Cardboard is desiccating
As Paper towels are rough and moisture absorbent,
As so much in a move has to be touched that should never be touched:
My thumbs and some fingers are split into the kinds of slices that throb 86,400 seconds of every day.
Lately, in public, when something rips open again, I am happy to let the blood pool and dry brown-red because this makes the pouring stop. Doesn't matter who sees it. They have their own wounds that are hard to staunch. People get it.
"This is just how it is right now."