This Skin

by Kim Heron

This Skin.

Pock marked, weather beaten, freckled, calloused skin

cracked heels barefoot gardening.

This skin of scars.

Crashing from a tree cut knee deep skin

shin dented from drunken falling.

Old soul, wrinkled palm skin, shared with my sibling,

axe marks from moonlit kindling.

The skin of where they cut her from me, wrinkled pink and blue, still attached I held her. skin to

skin.

This skin touched by lovers, counting my moles.

Skin of holes.

This skin thick hot with desire.

Cold from love worn thin skin.

Skin that surprises me in mirrors screaming “drink More water!” bastard skin, stays up when I

pinch it skin.

My mothers skin, loosening.

My granny’s skin, tissue thin, naked breasts at her waist saying “What would you like to see me

in?”

Delicious, wriggly, giggly morning skin, tiny toes slipped between thigh skin, perfect new warm

bellied skin.

His Skin,

strong armed comfort skin even after arguing.

Im no good at this.

This internet thing

pixilated time lapsed skin

virus covered flexible outer coverings.

My friends when this is done

when we come blinking out

I’m going to skin to skin you like newborns.

Sweaty dance floor skin you

touch your face and hands.

Tanning oil myself in the sunshine of your eyes.

Scars, wrinkles and skin.