To Write Love on her Arms

I watch you there, dressed

entirely in amorphous scrubs,

laying unstill

on a mattress

in an empty

.

room

.

of naked walls.

.

In a barren space,

where no one

wants to be,

.

or be seen even.

.

shadows of the past

are etched on the walls

hiding

trying to escape

.

the meaning of their thoughts.

.

I had been

assaulted

in the waiting room

but did not care.

.

The love of my life,

struggled with the meaning

of her recent discoveries.

.

Her wounds bled

while my heart, dying

in her bare hands

.

as she talked

of riddles about her favorite,

her lost love, and dad.

.

And an enchanted space

called the highlands

a magical spot

in a story book place

of her youth where she

was young, still.

.

The chemistry

of such thoughts

created a distilled

intoxication for her.

.

One which helped

the dreams die

.

more softly like.

.

--

.

Our daughter watched

the butterflies as the soccer ball

rolled softly by

her person.

And the other children

ran on.

.

Our beautiful daughter, she

knew all the secrets

in all the things

the other kids took

for granted,

.

she had them figured already.

.

She loved

that her dad showed up

even though she knew

her parents fought

every day

and that it took

everything for him

to be there. But mom,

.

she loved mom so much.

She worshiped her,

wanted to be like her

.

and knew her mom

would be there always,

.

she thought.

.

But something told her

She knew

she was older

.

then her mom

even though it did not

feel that way now.

.

she did not know

why, but she knew.

.

-

.

My lost love

she had written

secret codes

on her arms,

.

one inspired of gem stones

rocks which told the truth

of her superior

mind and intellect.

.

She asked me what the secret riddles

said, while she spoke of

.

her favorite

and me

and dad.

.

I told her, "you wrote it, my love.

You did so as we talked

of enchanted things

.

I held you

while you fought

through nightmares

you had not felt

in many years.

.

But the secret of the words,

my love

.

always speak one thing

these words,

of ours,

.

all they say is

.

"love."

.

over and over.

.

on repetition, until our universe

burns out

.

as fiercely as did our fire."