Poem 113

Someone affected by what my brother termed a ‘plague’ of fireplace/heater accidents to young girls …

Got Burned

when her nylon nightie blew a soft blossom
of pain into her
                 and she melted
she was six and the scar was there
        a spot of blood on an egg
she was nine and it stretched over her shining
       sealed tissue

            her breasts grew half in shadow

her breasts grew half in scar
nineteen
           can't make love with the lights on
belly the matt colour
      of anger 
               delta
of an old flood
                         burned

as she turns the pages of a magazine
through the stinging spring collections