Ink

Simple poem of self reflection

Ink!

Like a tattoo -

permanently inked
into my flesh. It’s never going away.
Although it is private,
it will always be
visible when I am naked.
Sometimes I am at my most glorious
when I am naked.
Sometimes I am ashamed
of my nakedness.

I can choose to cover it or display for all;
When I look in the mirror
I see it. I see it. I see it.

It is mine alone.
I won’t have it
surgically removed,
but I wonder if it will fade.
I will live grateful
for it . . . because of it’s beauty.
I will ache
because of the pain of application
and how it hurts when I rub it.
It is as much a part of me as any
birthmark,
mole,
freckle,
or hair.

It is mine
and no one else will ever have one like it.
I may trace it
from time
to time I may caress it.
I may stab it.
I may look away from it.
I may stare at it.

I will be buried with it.