Of the twelve from which I came
there are some true and some false —
costae spuriae and costae verae.
I know well Spurius.
We have sparred for decades.
Fueled debates and bruises,
broken bones and hearts,
fed poetry and prose.
Vērus is a stranger,
yet as familiar as breath
when he finally appears,
surrounds heart and hope
as if bone from bone,
and flesh from flesh.
If I can uncage belief —
tear off this scar tissue
that congests and confines —
I may just love him forever.
Words ©2015, Jen Payne.
Photo, Morbid Anatomy.
Oh, Jen. I stand unshod before this poem. Versus is no stranger to you. Neither is courage.
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Sweet words. Thank you!
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