Another lovely post from Duke.
When do scars become beautiful? I have asked myself that question a number of times. In fact, it is always on my mind. I can’t shake it. Love is part of the answer. Beyond the scar we must look for the tatters of love and it is like a difficult book we have been assigned to read and the words make little sense, yet we struggle to find the true meaning of the red and white lines or in the mind where it shows with incalculable shiftings and footfalls of unexpected events. We usually feel sorry for the person and there is madness or mistake or torture. Without love, we are only left with the scar, and its permanence, and in typical fashion, we turn away.
Scars are like telescopes viewing a star in the sky. There is the obvious outward appearance and then there is the distance between you…
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