Making my Mark

  

 

My heart warms, a smile forms

My soul, so mellow as though I’ve had a fix of sorts

Elevated by the ecstasy of my emancipation

I struggle to stop the eruption of laughter bubbling within

I have done it and it feels good

 

I giggle as I tell my friends, they too giggle

What is it? Where is it? They ask

One expresses her disappointment

Still my joy remains

Another asks, isn’t sore?

But I am high on good vibes

 

This pain by choice numbs all other pain

As the needle perforates my skin

Bursting bubbles of disquiet

Its buzz dissolving all gloom

My grin and grimace are short-lived

As the mirror reveals 

Two black roses so intricately drawn 

 

Each time I see it, sometimes by chance

Two black roses under my skin

My soul declares

Not rebellion but repossession

Of my body

My tenderness, delicate, like the roses

My being, permanent, as the black ink

 

I’ve made my mark

Here on the small of my back

Two black roses intricately drawn

My tattoo, a tribute to my liberty

 

  

 

 

 

Jackie Mondi