Skin: Lent 1

Skin: Lent 1 March 7, 2019

Maybe he knew what he was doing

When he got himself put close to the ground

No legs? No problem

No arms? Hands? Opposable thumbs?

Who cares.

Shunned for all time

Over that whole fruit thing

Maybe, but whatever.

Who actually gives damn.

Because what he’s got

That we don’t got

Is a whole skin that can be crawled out of

And left behind.

Just a husk on the ground

A wisp of the life that was

Like a peel of that fated apple

just barely missed the trash can.

A thing you’re done with

And can inch away from slowly

Like the ashes of that old shadow

That does not quite, exactly fit


To the dust again

And gone.

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