No one
has seen my body
without scars.

You see,
one night some men
followed me home
and they had a knife,
a sharp one.

To watch a wound heal
is to look God in the eye—
but really,
glance slyly at His face
as you grow, grow, grow.

The last tingles of life
slip and give way
to the dull hum
of what the starfish
must feel when
a ghost arm again
becomes an arm!

* * * * *

Marcella Hammer is a writer and an entrepreneur. She lives in San Francisco and enjoys mountain biking, running and good German beer. Follow her on Twitter @marhammer. Her other contributions to Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

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