Mark.

He loved
to touch
beautiful things
He had 
to As 
a child 
he couldn't 
help himself 
He would 
reach out 
and feel 
the beauty 
He would 
ground it 
to his 
heart and 
transform the 
world to 
magic; Suspicions 
to truth 
Then he 
grew up 
He worked 
in concrete 
numbers and sheets 
One day 
He met 
the girl 
with the 
scar He 
touched it 
He had 
to as 
if he 
were a
child He 
couldn't help 
himself He 
traced its 
jagged contours 
it's harsh 
beauty He 
came to 
know its 
shape its 
silken length 
and it 
transformed The 
world to 
magic; suspicions 
to truth 
and he 
grew old 
Wisdom in 
understanding Love 
in despair 
and one 
day he  
saw her smile