four months

A Scar Is A Wound Once Healed

When you speak about it,

Your words are like

mustard gas on a crowd protesting 

with truth and resurrection

Riot gear beats beautiful bodies barren and broken

But

The scar

Flaming out on your upper left shoulder

Is the type of imperfection 

That made our savior take on flesh

made our savior die

And impart his family crest

The scar

I run my fingers over

And compare it to nails driven

Imago dei given

Is the type of rejection

Of the world that makes my love for you stronger

For those who have died to sin

How can you live in it any longer?