It began a bump-lump, sleek-lovely swell
Decorating the palm of my hand.
Smooth sector of raveled love line
Tip-touched only by my middle finger.
It grew bolder, pinker, ruddy with life,
Caressed by pads, palms, knuckles, thumb.
Warm worrystone
Rubbed religiously

But overnight Queen Anne’s Lace bloomed.
Slick knoll cranny-nooked into warren
Luster-lit from within.
Froth-white zenith, spring-green core,
Sheerly clear caverns queried by lips and tongue.
Rough pelt felt by tender-smooth skin.
Serrated summit surveyed by coarse tooth—

Lick, gnaw, nick. Touch, suck.
Glistening shamefully,
Obscuring the palm of my hand.
I chomp-chewed the gelatinous root.
I twist-pulled the luminous protuberance.
I suck-spat incandescent bits of copper tint,
And taste.
Wart worrier.
Wart warrior.