This crackle finish,
this patina of pain
makes her a marked woman.
Grafts,
layers of insulation
against the raw oozing
egress of bodily fluids
let loose from crushed conduits,
won’t stitch to spasms
or bind to burns.
What she needs
is not patches
but a new suit of skin,
armour-clad and seamless,
third-degree love-pierced offering,
to cover smarting soul
with the Balm of Gilead.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
Reminds me of the lovely hymn “There is a Balm in Gilead”; such a lovely balm.
Thank you Gallivanta! 🙂
Ha! A new suit of skin! That’s what I need right now. And I don’t mean metaphorically 🙂
Hugs
I’m quite positive that your suit is a beautiful model, Petro! 🙂 Hugs right back!
I could us that right now too. Hormones are killing my skin & the winter weather hasn’t been helping either. Ok – I’m done complaining…for now.
Happy Day 🙂
It’s getting hard NOT to as this winter drags out…
Me thinks someone dwelleth on things best not dwelleth on… 😉
How can I help it with that wrinkled up skin on that puddle? 🙂
Oh WOW, this is good. Funny (not), how the heart’s skin is so fragile–I don’t care anymore what my outside looks like, but I’d sure like new armor for my heart. (Thanks, dear Mel, for your loyalty and caring–I just got the computer home from hospital–dead tower/power–so am catching up. And I believe there will be a victory post/coming out party in early May…)
Yay! Victory posts are good! Glad you’re back – I’ve been so concerned about you…
Sorry for the concern, things were Bleak–and I’m still the reigning drama queen…But it’s all Good with God.