Painkiller

Damn it!
Turn the lights off —
not seeing is the last painkiller left
that still works.

This time too
I had been thinking of you;
in a trance
I came out of the bath,
my hands patched with blood
and wounds that hold no memory.

I think of you,
and years later
there are many wounds
on my body —
wounds I see later,
wounds that hurt later.