It Happened So Long Ago

Did the fire in my brain come before or after the fire
in my mouth? My mother will never tell, and the records
have all been lost. All we know is there was burning, a pyre,
nerves gone haywire; we know there was a scream, a cry, a cord
anchoring one end of a wire at a fixed place, flashpoint
channeled from this, here, toward infinite possibility.
And there are scars. Of course there are scars. Even at knifepoint,
when the scars are cut away, new scars come. Serenity
comes with disregarding the scars, the old face, the new face,
whatever. I’m usually not the one who has to look
at it. I live behind the face and forget what’s erased,
what’s seen. I forget my hair is blue, that my smile is crooked
to one side, as if wryly amused. When you look at me,
I look back. When you smile, I smile, too, happy to be seen.

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2 responses to “It Happened So Long Ago

  1. Very powerful images of burn victim healing applied to the over active nerve issues associated with chronic fatigue syndrome or so it seemed to me as I read this.

    • What a wonderful reading of the poem! Juxtapositions of varying sorts, different for different people, but the experience of having multiple issues collide … something held in common.

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