Scars are translucent like bubbles,
like armor,
like rain suede petals,
glittering under the seams of rolled up
sweater sleeves,
feigning oracle,
serving as the third eye
glossed over by cataract past,
setinel patrolling for danger,
protecting the body,
harping on sore nerves anxiously
feral to order paper cuts and bruises to heal fast,
we need sense,
not numbness.

© Kate M. Sine