give it time she texts me
and i imagine taking a spoon and feeding
this bruise minutes--piled up high and steaming seconds
what would this pain even look like?
i envision the deepest of purples,
the cold color of beady seagull eyes, the dark when you
open your eyes in bed and can't see your hand absorbed in front of you,
would it sparkle like a rock or glint like a knife?
perhaps both, i think,
its mouth open like a gaping black hole.