All the Secrets Are Not Scars

Padlocked, the old family mansion.

Enthrall, master and depict,

all ether, unavailable. Over this predicament,

the skull is a mountain.

Other tortured resemblances include

the cliff’s my precipice.

Somewhere else she’s spitting into a cup.

Dandelion and ragweed stand in

for a family’s fortune. The tale in transit,

between being lathered up

and being artistically brushed by one last

self-portrait. The body apologizes

for its flaws. All the secrets are not scars.

All the regress does not address.

Still we feel

for a pulse, the métier to pursue.

Let us thrum through neighboring woods

then, the counseling woods.

To keep the bees away we forgo the swelling,

the visible pinprick on the forearm,

the fever-pitch aftermath.