Tom C. Hunley

“As we made love, our scars met,grazing long enough for mine to say“He tries to hide me,”and for yours to reply“I know I embarrass her.”“He never learned how to swim,” whispered my scar.“She got picked last in gym class,then cried into her pillow,” replied yours.Just then, a huge wound opened in me.You touched it. It closed.I was filled, fully healed, and I knewI would never be able not to love you.”