Pandora

The summer was heralded
By a chorus of ice cream vans
Humming Green Sleeves
As they flowed through
The tributaries of the suburb.
Kneeling in the back garden,
My embarrassed t-shirt retreated
Up my back whenever
I leaned forward
Revealing the stretch marks
That spread like purple lightning
On my milky skin.
I came to dig up the shoebox
I had buried some years earlier;
Back when I was Pandora.
Inside the tattered cardboard
I had concealed my bruises,
Sacrificing them to the soil.
I clutched it with dirty hands.
Then you appeared from the kitchen.
Crossing the lawn with a few strides
You pulled me into your arms;
They wrapped around me like shoe laces.
And suddenly I realised that my hands
Were clean and empty.