Love is an Itch

Love is an itch.
An irritation dying for attention.
A voice in the skin crying out.
Tempting the hand.
To be scratched
and be scratched again.
To feel good
and be red.
Only to end up
as a wound.

Love is a wound
Cured only by tincture that stings.
Only a bitter pill
can save it from gangrene.
Deepening through time
until it dries.
As feelings die.
Leaving instead
a scar.

Copyright ©1989 Ronnie C. Cabañes
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