across the back like violets
Lynn Strongin
Across the back like violets
the bruise spread
opening like petals.

He blinked.
In Tokyo young mothers are wending to a Buddhist temple high on a wooded hill
taking tiny pieces of clothing for their rag-babies ghost-children.

He has seen photographs of temple grounds
even spoken to a lecturer
who gave him this replica
like the wound in his back
ringing
a temple gong
calling him
to speak of unspeakable things.

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