Growing a Callus

    by Sonia Dogra

    Three decades later we still hold hands.
    My dermatitis infected fingers entwined
    in yours
    the gentle brush of your thumb against
    my flaky skin.
    You are kind, I think.
    Last night you drilled through my heart
    and hammered the tacks in.
    Now your hands caress crusty scales,
    breathing under a layer of salve
    you rubbed this morning.
    Can I ever hurt? you ask
    The gaping hole in my heart
    has grown a callus.

    No, I mumble.

    Sonia is an accidental poet and short story writer based in Delhi. Her writings have appeared and are forthcoming in The Kali Project, Write in Power, Amity, Kitaab, Tell Me Your Story, Recipe for a Perfect Marriage, A Body of Memories, The Hooghly Review & Flash Flood Journal among others. An ex-educator, copyeditor and nature enthusiast, she dreams of owning a book café in the hills. Discover her writing on A Hundred Quills or follow on Twitter SoniaDogra16

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