A daily reading from One Poem Only—a quiet space for a single poem, read aloud.

Then maybe it would mean somethingE E NisbetThen maybe it would mean something:If your sorry could un-scream,vacuum spit-sprayed particles,suck up fucks, threats and bullshit,Un-drink, choke it back into the glass,take back your money,If your sorry could drag updregs of saline from blotted paper,Sculpt it back into a tear or twoand roll them backwards up my face,If your sorry could un-scar my skin,build the sharpener back together,Draw together the wet ravines of skin like a zip,un-lift the flap of scab, un-openthe sealed-shut mouth of a silvering scar,un-lick the wounds,If my okay could un-crash those cars,fuse together splintered glass, pull spinesBack into alignment, un-slip discs,stitch back skin spread thin across tarmac,unblock the roads,

More from E E Nisbet ↓

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Poetry reminds us what matters. Thank you for listening.