I sit on a rock
Waiting for
My skin to dry.
The droplets run
Down my back
Along my thighs.

I sit on a rock
Watching the tide
Creep slowly up
I’m trying not to hide.

My skin is puckered
Like raw chicken flesh
With lines and spots

How could I pretend
To be something I’m not?

Flesh, meat and bones
This is my home.
But my body has me
So it’s never alone.


2 thoughts on “Skin”

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