The Marks Remain

From the outset,
my wrists were bound;
wrongfully arrested,
I’d plea bargain without cause,
seemingly without choice.

Craving sweet bitterness,
rocking you like a cocktail,
I would remove your top,
release my passion, and
devour you in instalments.

You, my daily medication,
the essential dose of rapture;
vital, addictive, immediate,
sped venom through my veins
that led to the heart of my despair.

Each hit delivering a mark;
I’d await side effects,
like your incredulity on waking,
interrogation from burning eyes
that scorched my cheek,
parched my tongue,
stung my eyes.

On a trip, through the ruins of your mind
where you’d once held mass,
I heard misquoted passages
echoing around the inclined victims
of those that preceded me.

The marks remain,
however concealed
as day by day
the soundless damage remains
leaving me deaf to reason,
yearning still.

© 2017, David Ratcliffe

Author:

The focus of "The BeZine," a publication of The Bardo Group Beguines, is on sacred space (common ground) as it is expressed through the arts. Our work covers a range of topics: spirituality, life, death, personal experience, culture, current events, history, art, and photography and film. We share work here that is representative of universal human values however differently they might be expressed in our varied religions and cultures. We feel that our art and our Internet-facilitated social connection offer a means to see one another in our simple humanity, as brothers and sisters, and not as “other.” This is a space where we hope you’ll delight in learning how much you have in common with “other” peoples. We hope that your visits here will help you to love (respect) not fear. For more see our Info/Mission Statement Page.

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