Our scars are no longer
Like chains
Like birds in flight
They float like ribbons
On our skin
We no longer feel the need
To hide our face
In veils
Draw our body in sheets
The lumps are like beads
A rosary
A reminder
Of all we have been through
Our life
Our being
Of our survival
The grounds have shifted
Beneath our feet
Something inside has switched
The shaft of the rabbit hole
Recedes into a glorious
Pink sky
The key is our mantra
Minute by minute
Hour by hour
Day by day
Word by word
That is the way
She whispers
And I hold her hand
With a deep and soothing sigh.
