Sing My Name

Sing my name to me. Sing to me in pain, in stings, in thuds. Sing a song made of slaps.

Remind me who I am. Who I am to you, who I am to myself, and who I am to the world.

Tattoo my skin with tracks of your presence. Write your name and mine in the bruises you leave behind, marks to show you the way back.

Take me to my Elsewhere. Take me to Elsewhen. I was not born for this earth, and only you can show me the way out.




(This vignette is inspired by a couple of posts from Shira Lipkin's Blogathon postings, which were in turn inspired by her nascent novel Cicatrix)