Wound

My wound is open like a full circle

My wound is open like a full circle
Gaping grapefruit, 
Half in my chapped hand,
Half on my raw tongue.

My pink flesh is divided
Between the center and 
The circumference
Sections of what's in my heart, 
Leftovers, still fresh

Circles are closed.
This one ought to be a scar
With a finite shelf-life
But I will let it sour.

I will let it swell from
The core.
I will let it sting me from
The inside. 
I will let it rot me in a place where we can hide.