Scars

I took your hand and placed it
Where it hurt the most.
The warmth of you on my heart
Was clearly what had been missing
All these years.
You then showed me your own scars.
On your back,
A fall when skiing.
On your hand,
A neighbour’s cat bite when you were 8.
On your ankle,
A bad football tackle.
But then you took my hand
And placed it on your own heart.
‘I’ve been hurt here too’ you said.
‘Scars last, but a broken heart can heal.
Love is life’s most beautiful miracle.’
I held my hand there for a long time,
Feeling it beat.
Feeling your warmth.
We would heal each other.

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