Thesuicidespecial

My lover’s elegance is not found In the pensive twist of her lips When she smiles Nor in the sway of her hips When she walks Or her fair completion Reflecting the morning light But in a scar that adorns her neck. A smooth, gliding line across her otherwise perfect skin Squeezing her throat like a vile serpent Biting and hissing at all who approach For though it is, to her, a cancerous memory To me it is a ring of beauteous pearls A reminder of her humanity An imperfect perfection The cornerstone of my adoration