Supply and Demand

 time has its own measures for the volume of blood spilled.

the parable of skin is written by spurious strangers.

we wear our trust in lazy nooses.

choking on the knots we've made in its rope.

stilted by the lingering bruises.

flesh has its own equations.

to calculate the value of each touch.

we merely stumble over its numbers,

pretending to understand the cost.