No longer can you hurt me.
No longer will I let you touch me.
Bruises of black and red petals
Blossoming under my skin.
I'll dream of breaking cups,
Just to feel the shattering vibrations tell me,
They'll let me know I'm still real.
How will I feel in the morning,
Knowing I let you touch me?
Helped you grow these pain-blossoms?
I know I'm alive and real,
The pain that does not come in dreams.
And yet I feel no pain as I touch the red splotches,
Spreading them with patient fingers,
Until my whole body is covered,
In the beautiful black roses.
August, 12, 2002