Poem: A Hurt And A Scratch

“I have two hurts.” she says. He
inspects with his pudgy hands. Tells
her he has three. “Show!”.

In a single word, they command
each other to share, and to submit.
Where hurt is? Show.

First her left knee. He shakes his
head. No, that is a scratch. It is
definitely not a hurt.

You are younger he says. You don’t
know the difference. A scratch is
thin. She considers.

“So hurts are fat?”. No, no. It isn’t
about thin and fat. “Then?”. It is
with something sharp.

“So hurts are caused by falling, and
scratches by edges.”. He also
considers. Shakes his head.

She thinks he is cruel. He thinks
she is young. We should have played
for an hour more.

That way we’re too tired to fight. Gives
her something. She is angry. What is
this silly green thing.

It’s a flower. He is about to cry. “It’s
stupid. Ugly. Not a flower.”. Okay okay.
It is a hurt.
Not a scratch.