the wounds that festered
underneath the clear, smooth skin.
The scars survived inside without an end.
Manly ways and worldly motions.
Wishing such emotions nonexistent.
The time had come for healing their sins.
A gentle touch, a rush of living love.
A miracle brought down from up above.
The angel swayed
and named this way its own...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .