nævus

scars wear me,
an effacement
so tight it hurts.

remake my ruined life.
pin a subject with language—
the strangle and struggle—
represented in books.

the subject disappears,
creating a space,
reduced to nothing,
i am home.

this ward,
a link to sacrifice,
it does not heed burning.

violet flash, my shelter,
this singularity of absence,
a path of nerves,
now of space and land.

my furious arms around you,
these prayers inscribed on bone.