The leather is cracked from a year in the dark
by Spar
· 03/12/2025
Published 03/12/2025 08:25
The leather is cracked from a year in the dark,
where the buckle has left a deep, permanent mark.
I pull it on tight but it slides down the skin,
revealing how much of the winter I’ve been.
That knob of the bone is a stubborn, white thing,
too sharp for the silver or weight of the ring.
Like an elbow’s small brother, it waits for the blow,
pointing at places I’m ready to go.