la cicatriz

La Cicatriz

Oppression never shows

her teeth before she gnaws your last

decade away. See how your trust drips

from clever fangs finding your aorta of youth.

Her shovels are the Earth’s pencil scratching

        m e   t a l             on           m i n e   r a l,

rewriting crust you can’t see from space

but still, she has man by the throat.

If you drew me, draw me as close as I to you—

I would dimple press into the flesh

of ground. Make me a crater,

I’m your depression.

A low shadow from a

rainless cloud overhead, constant—

friend.

Dry eyes wash everything We

but wind ruminates and you find

 new ways to blow kisses

of kicks and scratch out my ears

with the manipulation of innocence.

These dust floods are my dear

Pegasus losing his footing. We’re

hoofing it,

these souls of mine.

Dig in, dig in, dig in—

Move some earth around

and all that inward diggin’ leaves scars

no one sees. Found my worth in writing

la cicatriz.