They say nothing is permanent.
But I beg to differ.
What is hidden beneath our epidermis?
This stained skin, this ink.
This tattoo with a memory.
Or just an impulse buy.
Regardless,
It will stay with us
Until death.
No,
It will stay when we are in the Heavens.
Or in Hell.
Is it a perfection?
A flaw?
A beauty to awe?
So appreciate such permanence.
Only surgery will let it fade away.
But perhaps with permanence
There comes regret.
Regret.
You can have one
You cannot have both
And there will come a neither.
So make your choice.
YOU ARE READING
Eden
PoetryLife changes, so will I. *** What I hope to achieve in poetry is betterness. In my writing, in myself, and in this work.
