the whole of me aches like a thousand arms had rained down on me ruthlessly in a single moment, my hands tremble, love, i have made a mistake—i have confused bruises for kisses, i can hear a lineage of cries in my sleep, of softness ripped through, her trail of tears seeping the earth, more than it should have ever had to; Death had promised me care, but how heavy-handed on the stem of my being,