Beneath the Bruises and the Dirt

My husband won’t stop with the bruises. They never seem to fade, each one darker than the last. Every evening I go to him and I plead to him, I beg for him to stop. But when I leave his grave and go to sleep… I wake up in the morning and my bruises are even darker. As if somehow by putting him there, I’ve made it worse than before.

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The Eyes of My Brother’s Hound