M.A. Scott

TO MY MASTECTOMY SCAR ON ITS 22ND BIRTHDAY

How I love this five inch stretch of skin
faded to the cream of a coral cameo

or bar of Camay soap. Nurses tell me
he did a beautiful job, with arcane

precision, but a slight pucker
at the first stitch as if to say nobody’s

perfect. Praise be that little dimple
of impertinence, in the mirror, the shower,

the sunlight. In Manon of the Spring,
Ugolin collects Manon’s hair ribbon

and sews it through his chest as
a binding spell. Look what I have done,

just as close to the bone—carved
a hollow for you; lined it with rabbit fur.

A place to rest your head.