Tell me about your wounds.
I want to know about the sinews of the scars that have made you,
And the skeleton of your truth.
I want to learn of the DNA of your soul’s longing
And the pulse of your rumbling desire.
Tell me about your unique history of blood shed,
And the callouses that have defined your consciousness.
I want to learn about your weaponry
Even those that might one day come back to hurt me.
I will trace the bruises of your existence with my fingers
In order to see the world as you do.
I want to know what makes your cells sing,
And what brings you closer to home.