She said
Don’t be mad
But you have scars on your back
And as the paint of forty dried
I learned something new
You can fall from horses
Even in sleep
Where maybe in absinthe dream we met
By starlight
Yet you know my shape
From other times
When I was not myself

And you
You were always there

A whisper of conscience
A ribbon around my wrist
Falling in equal weight
We are born again and again
Sometimes you are a bird
And I the tree, you the land
To keep watch
Next time
Write your memories for me
In dark pearls
Lost in sand
Coming up as moon
forged in silver trees

18 thoughts on “Scar

  1. “A whisper of conscience
    A ribbon around my wrist”

    So visual and compelling…really, really nice work!

  2. Yes, I’ve wondered at times if you felt there was truth in our continuity through time … yet I see it all the time in your writing, so I see you do …

  3. I feel as you do that it’s inevitable we transcend one lifetime into another. It’s a belief we both share, the idea of energy transforming through time bit never dying

  4. The transformation of energy! Certainly as Earl Nightingale said “we came from someplace, and we are going someplace” There feels to be such tragedy in nihilism, imagine a billion years of evolution ending in dust? What would be the purpose of consciousness, or love..

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