Wounding--
more deeply, I'd say
than any insult inflicted by such mundane tools
as guns and knives.
Modern medicine has worked wonders
for the art of numbing our fears,
making us stupid when faced with such tragedies
as are found in this purely tangible world of our creation.
This is impermeable.
No pores to fit in needle pricks,
nor mouths for the easy ingestion of pills.
Subconsciously immortal,
because there is no sure-fire treatment for the removal
of this scar tissue.
Chances are, there is no purity beneath anyway.
Anesthesia is too big of a mouthful
for the immature beliefs that fuel our dreamscapes;
there is no morning-after pill that will flush out the virus
that leaves sweaty clutch-prints
in sterile cotton pillows.
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