day 15

i close my arm in the oven door and leave it
a second past knowing. the extra moment
rises in blisters, a sticky wetness on the inside
of my shirt. maybe i thought it would be a good
reminder, a good way to remember this meatloaf
and brussels sprouts. we eat too much. my forearm
splits beneath my clothes, hot and oozy and later
crusted and still so much burning. surely soon
the heat will reach the bone.

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