Treasure Trove

Abrasions:
On my knees,
on my elbows,
on my mind,

Translucent skin
shows the scars the best,
A child of glass
is in the making
for a hundred seasons
which only needs
a single marring
for the work
to come undone.

To hold forever and a day
it needs a special sort of help:
Ingraining sigils
in the inner inlet
of my flotsam,
jetsam,
id.

Mothers keeping vigils
over sickbed children
As they ebb and flow
in rivulets
Of blood and ashes
Running wide
and running home
Creating rivers reddening
already rosy cheeks
Soft and cracking from the pinching bites
Of loving aunts and mothers
kissing ope my cheeks,
unearthing jellied treasure
beneath my clear exterior
and pouring forth
my molten innards

My belly
full of long forgotten pleasures:
A shell I lost when moving lives across the country,
A dollar won from time forgotten, family lore,
A colour never shared from dreams of futures shared,
A feeling of your inner thighs against my lips,
A flower I had of you and tears are intermixed.
Inside my head a treasure trove
Inside my treasure trove.