Trauma (Storm)
By Gregory Orr
Hunkered down, nerve-numb,
in the carnal hut,
the cave of self,
while outside a storm
rages.
Huddled there,
rubbing together
white sticks of
your own ribs,
praying for sparks
in that dark
where tinder is heart,
where tender is not.
Copyright © by the owner.
