Scar (Just Another Scar on the Body)

But sleep, a beaded talisman. Our hearts working
as rain, fluttering

forests of rose and bone, perpetually reborn, protected
by thorns, where fear is sin

where no sword turns

where angels are the body within

each body a portal

Each window as hesitation
What are salt and glass to me


You understand even if you pretend not to
The way the dying light favored you five hours later--
staining your blouse, staining our fingers

that last light lives in your body
and the soul of your body as auric deities hidden in dripping
caves


[chorus, when sung]
Just another scar on the body
Every arrow points to somewhere
You are always pointing to come home



Just Another Scar on the Body [#34]
© 2009 Fammerée


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Richard Fammerée
fammeree@att.net
director@universeofpoetry.org


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Photograph by Susan Aurinko

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