Broken beauty

I like the cold,
ice in my bones sharpens
me to the edge of myself

I like the wind,
whipping wild to shear
charades apart

I like the rain,
fallen truths to swoop
sedimented falsehood

I like the needles in my spine,
crisping every movement
in glass crushed sparkling stabs

I like the aching
empty in my stomach,
rooting me to the earth as it
gasps for the stars

I like the bite of your teeth,
dash-curve marking flesh
with moments flame memento

I like the claw of your nails,
scratching through the fear skin
to the rawness red of real

I like the lurch of your absence,
hobbled honesty of hurt
not scabbing closed my heart

I like the dirty busted brutal,
I like the septic shattered sigh

Every scream the exhalation
of life breathed searing deep

Because in every broken moment
is a perfect pristine truth

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