Recorded by Nick Diener at Oneder Studios. Mixed by Robert Ritzenthaler.
A shawl of wounded past, as antecedent to remission,
anoints the fissures in skin with shame.
His wounds have painted the tongue that recounts,
false and misshapen in what it has offered.
Scars trace the lines of fragments
and shards embedded in the broken surface
of wrists drained of warmth.
They grin like hissing jaws of grievance for what has healed
and bloomed in the baptism of flesh renewed.
There they sing. Bitter is their song.