A poem

Underneath my skin
my story is all written
from beginning to end

Some nights I take scissors
and I cut through my skin
Before the blood starts running
I get a glimpse of
The Holy Letters of my ancestors

Then, with my grandmothers thread and my mother's needle I re-attach my skin to flesh

Underneath my clothes
there are tracks of stitches
and skin that is still purple

And there are holy letters
the holy letters of my ancestors

the aleph beit
from beginning till end
it is all there
one layer under