Ruby Day

 

Within the calendar bag of nails
are the ruby days
when you kissed...
entwined...
burned.

Perhaps it is only one ruby
that drowns the light in crimson glory —
that tows the fire glow
through waves of rapture.

Reach in, grasp it.
These are the scratches
holding you here.

You string it, steel nails on a chain,
the gem centered and heavy
against the hollow of your throat.

Metal memories pierce the skin,
ignite your veins...
the velvet bag empty.