Injuries are part of the tapestry of life

All of us mere bags of bones inside skin

Other wounds are more deliberate

Caused not by chance but by sin

 

A bruise on your cheek was the first sign

Make-up could'nt hide the contusion

When I asked you what lay behind it

You seemed covered in confusion

 

Another day I saw a scratch on your neck

You blamed it on the labrador

Then you broke down and told me all

Last night he'd called you a whore

 

Despite your entreaties I went to see him

Like all cowards he shrank from my fist

I told him to treat you like a lady

That you were the first girl I ever kissed

 

He seems to have learned his lesson

Of lacerations you are mercifully free

Yet still you seem sad and distracted

I wish you could trust more in me