I saw you the other day
mixed in a crowd of even skin
varied in pigment only
you Stood out
with skin like Applied parchment
a being of a different making,
a Visitor
those spiky bunions tell me
your hands tried so hard
to save you from the Inferno
****
You disappeared however
in the crowd with your even skinned
children, who accustomed to looking
at the tenderness of your soul
moving behind leather
see love in the inflexibility of your face,
no longer the pain
your Flesh so vividly remembers,
lets none of us forget
****
My vision branded
I do not recall the tall woman with the torch
****