I. Bruised
Did you bump into
something—a table’s edge
or a low bench?
That’s a nasty one:
bluish-purple with
greenish-yellow.
More than a week’s time,
still fading.
I am delicate,
easily bruised,
like a peach
left on the counter
to ripen.
II. Scarred
After the last time,
I waited eight weeks to return,
no longer believing the things
they told me
about myself.
I am not heroic.
I am not selfless.
I am merely struggling to be
optimistic.
I have enough to give,
but it takes me a while
to convince myself
to try again.
III. Healed
Eight weeks.
I love the number
that turned upside-down
remains true to itself,
that turned on its side
becomes infinite.
My hope returns,
my fear abates.
Do not touch the bruise.
Do not examine the scar.
Wait: and dream
of the future,
when he is healed.
This is a small representation of the high-quality writings you’ll find in every issue of TIFERET.
We receive no outside funding and rely on digital issues, workshop fees, and donations to publish. If you enjoy our journal’s verbal and visual offerings, we hope you’ll consider supporting us in one of these ways.
Click Here to Purchase Digital Issues
