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A Memoir of Flesh

You from a past age,

so naive, a hurt soul.

If only, yes if only 

The past version saw, 

what they would become.

wondrous, woeful?


How would thou process?

Would it be quite hard?

Maybe with drink, with

bardic delights.

Melody covers

the pain of the past.


Maybe you conjure

more physical means.

take the leap and taste

the bite of many

needles... Full of ink;

art, for arts sake... hmm 


But what of real pain?

What of skin taken

and agony found?

Scars abound beings

tortured, and flesh bound.

Many, many ways.


To cope and to hide

true feelings inside.

Grand art; grand emotion.

As life imitates, 

so do we as well.

hung by our own hugr.


The balance of id

of the out and in.

skin showing, shying

what our hearts express

not. A true x-ray

one's skin will shine on.


Old canvas speaks out, 

feel stories unfold.

fortune and forfeit

here both will be told.

both ink and metal

play the placid song. 


Our hearts shall beat on

for we wear them on

body and bodice.

Are we done? No more?

Not yet, for you see,

Our  tale is for thee...



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