Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

Flesh Wounds

by Mark Risner

With time,
this wound will heal,
blood congeal
and seal itself
against infection;
a scab,
against the outside
and her charms,
her coat of arms.
With time,
this wound will heal,
conceit conceal
what has gone before.
But not now.
For now it is raw,
ink blood,
pink puss
and quivering flesh.
Open, sore,
even to the
tenderest of touch,
and as such,
 it thins me.
When, with time,
this wound has healed
and shielded
itself oncemore,
this thin scorched skin
will bear it’s scar;
forever marred
in remembrance to this…
fierce pain
that pierced
like a threat
or a kiss.

Added: 30.04.2011

Judges' comments on this poem


Words flowed wonderfully. Loved this.


Arresting imagery and theme, but slightly clumsily executed.