this skin
is not mine
it fits too loose here
and too tight there
although its follicles are real fine
and surface scars have essentially faded
deeper incisions remain—
smart each time i inhale
or smile
still
i compliment it daily,
for it's the only set i have
of fitting material even if
temporally variegated.
i'm somehow
attached to it.
.JPG)
8 comments:
gosh, yes. kinda like the iceberg, with so much more below the surface, than on top...
Ha! There is a lightness here that belies the talk of scars. Reminds me of a song..."It only hurts when I'm breathing..."
Aging. Arrrrgh. The skin thins, the hair. Men lose their ass, women lose their waist. Emotions are worn in the set of our wrinkles, like photographs stapled to our plains.
And then I giggle at the notion of complimenting such a turncoat. But you're right. Might as well love the skin you're in. There is, after all, only one alternative.
Eagh! Awesome. Thanks, NoxAlio. My mind is in a literal mood this morning, that one gave me a shudder.
yes, Shadow ... veils and facades and the like ... no?
i love the gentle music of the sounds in this. nothing please me more than to hear the chimes of rhyming but not be able to know exactly where they're coming from initially. bravo!
Annie ... mirror
friend or foe
or maybe both.
thanks for reading PG!
Gerry, i went for simplicity and sound ... as you imply, it was obscured by layout and non-uniform presetation ... funny how the mind leaps backward searching for stepping stones ... i suppose that's why memorable jingles refuse to let go once they've established themselves in the mind ... thank you (as always) for stopping over and for the compliment.
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