lovemarks : [maría medina]

María Medina

Scars printed on my skin.

They like to tell stories.
How they came,
why they stayed
and what they crave.

Most of them are proof of my natural clumsiness.

Others unveil my characteristic carelessness.

The inner ones pass unseen to your naked eyes.
They are linked through blood.

In the long run
it doesn’t even matter at all.

They’re imperfectly perfect.
Scraped, punctured, cut, and stitched.

Listen closely to my scars.
Hear each story.
Worry. Cry.
Be amazed. Laugh.
Taste if they

are good enough.

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