Not the big ones, like those from surgery or a major accident. Just those lttle nicks that most of us have here or there, from a moments carelessness, or a freak mishap. There are a couple of straight-line ones on my right wrist left by the cat of my childhood, the only marks he left in the world. I see them everyday, reminding me of a creature that was more than a pet, he was a true companion, we shared so much together, I am almost overcome with sadness/happiness as I write about him. There are other marks, each with its own story, most of them pointless. Then there are the hidden scars, all the minor traumas that befall one on the trip through life - the poets speak of the 'heart' and its affairs. The heart is pretty resilient, whenever I thought love was breaking it, it was only testing it, making it stronger. The heart's little scars define it, not defile it.