Last updated:
June 1, 2020
Lori M. Cameron, editor
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Diary of the Body – Megan Diane Huwa

I. Skeptic

Dark hair so familiar
voiced gentleness
He takes his hand,
Put your finger here, see
my hands
doubting he traces the scars
palms, tender to the touch

Reach out your hand
put it on my side
Severed between two
ribs gashed by Soldier’s spear,
his finger grazes the mountainous scar
ripening red. Skin thinly healing,
leather straps frame depressions on His foot,
unwavering he falls
to the ground, “My Lord
my God.”

II. Shell

Sunday after church
I visit her. Cloud of moth balls
soiled denim tarry round me
I walk to room 118.
Held to her bosom
a stuffed bear, she nurtures.
Her slender fingers clench my hand
but she looks past
I remember
she’d play the piano every Christmas
She rocks the stuffed child
back and forth
humming  “How Great Thou Art”
I remember
singing this at Grandpa’s funeral.
Her Bible open to John
I remember
hearing of Christ.
Her blue eyes stare long
past mine. She strokes the child’s head
and continues to hum
a comfortable smile.
Down the hallway
I walk
I remember
when she hugged me
like that.

III. Blemished Virtue

Porcelain doll
face tender as a snowflake
purity a praised virtue, she feared
the cutting knife
to remove blemishes
of erring growth. Doctors nurture her
scars heal quickly, but
at home she stares in the mirror
by slashings
her abdominals
her legs
her arms
her blushing porcelain face.

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