I feel a change,
one like when that last piece of dried pain
peels off of my knee
You know?
The one I got a year ago
Strange one, this scar.
It cries as much as it laughs
Well, not much any longer, actually
Now it’s just a faint reminder
of fleetings
A birth mark from when I was conceived,
again
and again
and again
This pounding of my edges,
eroding my silty layers of grit
and aridness
Over the millennia of lives
my restlessness has experienced
I see the shape now, barely
About a minute left
Marble polished to perfection
A sculpture I could’ve never
envisioned, nor created
Yet here I am, looking at myself
