Surviving Spirit
I place my fingers on the scars you bear
And lovingly caress them where
Your nipples, tensioned, rested
On the softest sacraments of womanhood
Before the scythe removed them
All but memory
But memory will do
For you
Have not
Been minimized,
Reduced,
Constricted by your fate
And late at night
We hold the world away
Within our arms,
Love locking in
The joys we share
And out the cares
We gently bear
Between.
by Joseph Scherzer on Sunday, October 31, 2010
