A sailor’s wounds never heal.
Bloody lacerations
Become leathery scars
As boy turns to man
Flesh chapped by wind
Burnt by sun
Salted by him sweat
And the spit of the sea.
Stinging him skin
Until something strong
Whiskey, rum or gin
Can fill him in again
Scrape by scrape
Trying to patch up
That perpetual pain
A horizon away from
Everyone he ever
Loved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem