"I suffered, so, I learned, so, I changed"
her pale white arm,
back and forth,
flashes before my eyes face,
cutting my few blonde many grays,
she tumbles pieces of
now dead me,
to the floor,
in cut wet clumps
there, across her underarm,
placed there to be but
half-hid,
my Bostonian via Albania haircutter,
(I am a human explorer)
reveals a tattoo uttering
in Arabic
that cuts me
deeper
then any scissored blade
she metal possessed
I suffered, so, I learned, so, I changed
revelations daily granted me,
this one,
incomprehensible,
as she cuts,
I imagine,
my mused blood superheated,
clotting this poem
oh the words are readily understood,
but unknown is
the inspiration,
the event
so formative
it was deserving of being
transcribed, inked,
permanence earned by,
recording pon human flesh,
exposed
yet hidden
and I dare not inquire...even I...
who among us dare say
that they have not
suffered?
yet, you,
say the word slow
suf-fer,
hiss* it
in two parts,
then ask yourself again,
have you experienced
the unimaginable
as real?
and needy to record it upon thy own
human flesh?
I have walked
empty mirrored hallways unending,
stood by rivers imploring,
begging me to join their current,
sleepwalked for days without count,
punishing penance for
acts of commission,
acts of fearful cowardice
I learned
I changed
better
for the betterment
of my united untied
bodied bloodied soul
where?
my tattoo?
readily visible!
*in every word I ever wrote
See
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/fe/eb/98/feeb98fc879f599be507983bebe64e5c.jpg