That Love Comes

Some lessons are burnt into my flesh;
A phantom ache curling around the scar:

My torment, my badge of honor.
No child becomes woman 
if she has not been felled by love.

Girls buckle beneath uncertainty,
Broken by grief.
Tested by fire,
They burnt like paper dolls
Believing man judged their worth.

But Women
Stride out of the blaze,
Battle weary and singed:
"I braved the cracked mirror
And forgave my broken image.
She is lacking but she is strong."

Forget me not, the lesson murmurs.
And when dusk descends
Light and soft in the gloaming,
I touch the scar:

The peace of this evening
Is brought
only by your absence.
And the yearning 
That waltzes the tender strings
Sways for the promise
That love comes...
but never again with you.