// An Ancient Scar //
Just a crease it was, but you blamed me for causing a scar;
A mere bookmark it was, howbeit you left howling as if a sin I've done.
Not just a mark on a page whilst it was a scratch upon your memory,
The bookmark remained and so did this ancient cicatrice.
Just a stain it is, you argued staring me with credulous innocence;
A stain not too sully to subdue your silly wreak, I confessed alluring.
Like a stain for a scar, an infinite coordinate we solved;
Sauntering through the bookmarked, deepening the ancient blot.
Just as a vivid dream, the sepic blotches on that book detained,
As an insipid vulnerary lesion to be remembered and kept.
A mark of our story it was, albeit you refused to acknowledge,
The ancient fetish of yours entailed the bookmarked story left unsaid.
By: Mocking Soul
● The Bookmarked Scar
PC- Google ( for I would never do that to my books)