Skinbreather
The first real poem I ever write, will be in skin.
When I forget how to breathe,
My body will remember—
My skin, thin enough
To touch the world
And exchange
Life for life
Not every day can be a healing.
Sometimes, we can only let
Small kindnesses in,
One after another,
Trusting there's
Enough.
I have lived a long time armored—
In the irony of being an artist,
In the pelt of this wolf.
I can be more, being
The porous one,
Letting it in.
Skinbreathers cannot live
In arid worlds, absent
The wetness of life.
So I let the day
Touch me in
Music.
I let life pass my guardian
In word and deed while
Trusting in kindness
And support when
I am most tired.
Coming ever.
So today, I won't climb hills.
I won't explain or inhale.
I'll just let the good
Find it's way into
Me—the sound
And the still.
A world breathing for me
While I live in memory,
Digesting the past
To feed the art,
And wisdom,
And Love.
Touch me
And I'll
Live.
#poetry #100daystooffset #writing #story #osxs
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Thank you for coming here and walking through the garden of my mind. No day is as brilliant in its moment as it is gilded in memory. Embrace your experience and relish gorgeous recollection.
Into every life a little light will shine. Thank you for being my luminance in whatever capacity you may. Shine on, you brilliant souls!
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