Trading skin for wisdom,

carving the scream into a whisper

What passes through me,

Will ultimately pierce you,

Freeing this precious matter

trapped

in a net of memories

And just like you, here I am, unfurling my tongue,

probing and moistening the

wounds

To make titanium gleam

With just enough salt for light

to pass through those

slightly ajar,

For those who hold the

secret

of recognizing rare birds by the hue of their scars