Like an expensive pair of Levi’s, you
come already stonewashed, pre-frayed,
tough in places but compromised by
gaping rents where knees kiss cobblestones.
Armoured in blood and bruises like a
Late Gothic crucifix – if in-your-face
vulnerability is your first line of
defence, where do you go from there,
and isn’t that a stupid question? You
are either growing new skin under those
fearsome scabs or you aren’t. Come,
sit here a moment... Too weak
for either peace or alliance, we can still
balance a truce on the rim of a tea cup.
First published Apples of Gold, ed. Ruth Williams © Inge Milfull (2011)