scars

a constellation of sorrows 

and terrors: 

ugly,

repellent: a tally 

of ravages unscreamed. 

traces of shame, 

averted from my kind, 

shocking in glimpses:

how? how can this be 

what I have become? 

a text in red and pink 

and brown; a score 

of devil's tones: 

augmented rages;

flatted fists. 

were you to read

this tracery in braille—

eyes closed 

and open heart—

you would come 

to know your soul 

and how 

at last 

to love. 

—Genéve Gil