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my body wears
a pattern of scars
as intricate as expensive lace.
my body is branded
by beautiful tattoos
of none other
than that of pain.
my body refuses
to be physically marked
I hear wolves howling in the distance,
I see nothing,
I hear the hooting of the night owl,
I see nothing,
I hear the trickling of the creek,
Pardon me old friend but I fear the end
Is it near or far drown out
I do not know