satin scars

This piece was written a long, long time ago, regarding a lover who had been through hell before the poet arrived on the scene. He felt he had somehow failed her in helping her deal with the trauma.

Satin Scars

like satin scars on scaly skin,
my words exceed me.
memory fails and I am transient...
but my soul can see beyond
the farthest thunder of the
birth of time. the dance proceeds
at such a speed I cannot end the crime.
for all my cunning and fire,
I am a frail mortal. I bend
in the wind and cry in the dark
and withdraw, a bloodied friend betrayed
by self and shame, the game contorts
and fades. it laughs a Manson laugh...
in the face of the decades.
the decades that rob me,
that raped you and stole my god.
the dance I once began...I cannot begin
to prod my mind for the simplest steps..
memory fails and I am a cipher.
a riddle that no one laughs at,
a purpose none would die for.
but even in the grayest light I find
the answer. the time was not for me...
I stole it out of love and fear,
a crime so hideous...but so human.
there is much to forget and forgive,
to deny that is to lie.
and yet, for all our sins, we live.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.