Wearing his mark upon my skin

--

a patchwork tapestry of him

The bullet holes, their target met

the bewitching hour at 2 a.m.

Sins stacked inside babushka dolls

secrets tales, before the fall

The sacred fields of oblivion

and tender taste of dandelions

Are all that remain of scarred tattoos

unlike my hope, have been removed

--

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Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Written by Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Telling stories my heart needs to tell

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