Lee Seong-Bok

No Mark Left on
Your Flesh

Gazing into your eyes as you lie there,
quietly I make a nailmark on your flesh.
I write illegible letters there, or
draw a constellation unknown in the heavens,
but there’s no mark left on your flesh.
It’s something you have already accepted
and hidden. As I quietly press on your flesh
with a nail, a few winters pass and
a few snowflakes settle on your eyes.