The Scar
was made out of love
in an unbroken voice
she said, her fingers
on my cheek, running
down the line
her nails drew
a straight, clean line
your life, I hope
a map she penned
on my skin, grayish
dried blood ink
many moons ago
to lead you
to where you are
now
she stood proud
her perfect manuscript
a best-selling tragedy
was made out of love
in an unbroken voice
she said, her fingers
on my cheek, running
down the line
her nails drew
a straight, clean line
your life, I hope
a map she penned
on my skin, grayish
dried blood ink
many moons ago
to lead you
to where you are
now
she stood proud
her perfect manuscript
a best-selling tragedy
Dear Chrys, This and so many other of your poems here, I love. Very physical, 'Lower Body' (as they like to call it here in China), knowledgeable and unafraid. Marvelous. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rob. :)
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