Conscript stain of ash br glowing bruise-black, br ingrained by broad-thumbed priest. br Head stamped passport br to a Catholic redoubt, br leaving no room for doubt br which foot I kick with. br In oily paste I almost taste br this tribal scar branding me, br handing me br for one more year a clear br notion of what I am. br br Who I am seems unimportant br so long as I stay congregated. br Hourly the scab of ash encrusts, br sloughing from my skin the thin br sins I have acquired and I am br mired in penitence for what br I did - and failed to do. br It leaves the holy ghost br of a mark, br pulsing as it cools br and healing begins br on that boyhood brow fevered by br this hot assault br on skin too thin. br Too thin br to bear this scorching faith.