Scrubbed In

Staring down into this vat of steel, 

a cold, barren pit is eager to be reawakened. 

Hands are held steadily with fingers extended, 

bracing to be stripped of life and made anew. 

A blank canvas appears in motion as the rhythm resumes. 

Beads sewn together fill this chamber, 

pooling the world collected beneath the nails compounded with memory. 

Hands now raised unveil a glistening sight, 

the cinders of antiseptic bathing in the will of water  

and flickering against the light. 

Though mechanical in nature, this rhythm reveals an organic truth: 

the resolve of a healer to emerge unencumbered by the world  

before another’s skin is broken into.