Blemish


I remember our first meeting, fighting strangled chords for greeting,
Praying she would see me racing, pacing on the billiard floor.
There I statued quite conflicted, clammy hand and throat constricted,
Seeking, searching, lurching for the deepest, darkest hole to bore.
Contemplating crashing, thrashing quickly out the billiard door -
Through that door I came before.

But before that rash decision, in this most angelic vision,
With precision flowed the tip of arrow piercing through my soul.
In that moment nothing mattered, beating heart nor spirit shattered.
Scattered frenzy whipped me, whisked me to the one my love bestowed.
Such a fearsome, fevered, frenzy heart and soul might well explode.
For the love my heart was owed.

As she shines, the perfect darken. Sullied now till heaven harken.
Scarring, marring not of skin but stings and linger in her core.
Scars which she prefer unspoken. GOD has left her with this token -
Wandering weakened, bruised, confused by what a future has in store.
Wondering if this curious curse was judgment passed of sins before.
Pondering if there'd be a cure.

Yet she forges on defiant, not of sympathy reliant,
Resolute to rid her figure, frame and form of mark within.
With this blemish she is haunted. By this ill her will undaunted.
Ready, steady poised to shed the dark and let the light begin.
Tear the scab that grabs and tugs the joy that lies beneath the skin.
And never clutch her joy again.

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