there are days when i feel bruised,
an injury i have forgotten leaves me wincing.
there are days when i am a tender shoot,
and the world feels frosty.
there are days when i require softness and quiet all around me,
the caress of a stone in my hand.
there are days when i need to be held by a yielding couch
swept away from the scratchyplace by words and silence
there are days when i want to go home
