Barbed wire scars

My eyes dred the darkness
fall back in time
to the beat of drums.
I lie in your arms,
you remind me of a time before
these barbed wire patterns
edged into my skin, defined me.

The curve of your back
arches a trent, my hands retreat
surrender to the past.
A constant reminder hits me like a bullet, all all of this time
the map of my smile,
marks the scale of war.