Sticking point, that sliver caught in the craw,
the crux of an argument.
The old brown dog buries his bone,
bury the hatchet.
What letter fits the empty square
between R and B across?
I am thinking rib--lunar cradle,
diviner runed and untooled.
And rob. The bone God stole
from Adam to fashion Eve.
With an emptiness near heart and breath,
something amiss, Adam blames Eve.
And what about her?--
not her own person, part of him.
Oh, that contentious bone--
a not-so-funny joke, a poke in the side,
artifact from the ancient, unending battle.
The answer is U.
Where's the rub? Skin on skin, red and raw.
Friction. Spark.
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