There is no need, they say
to reopen the wounds, and I would
not want that to be my vocation
I would rather be the staple
that closes up the gash, or the thread
running through the seam
I would rather be the bandage
covering the soreness, or the light
and arid balm spread across skin
But sadly sometimes I am the one
who reopens, prods, and remembers.
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