Thirteen Hands.

in the very moment before I left you,
you grabbed hold to me.
I was injured: my skin torn, neurons and nail buds
under the sulfur sieve. I hissed when
you clawed against my body, latching on.
you came home with me.
I healed.
my skin grew back, cells re-tying themselves to
nucleotidic strands, vines of flesh closing in
over the shape of your gnawing body.
I grew back over you. I grew whole again.
then I felt you move in there- I reached down
and patted my body, the shape of you
and the squelch of how you were still rotting inside.
at what point had I forgotten?
I’m ripping my skin back up to get you out now.