Ghost of Earth ©

XY

October 26, 2015 Poems, Word

Surf & water
can
as water
can’t alone;
film a
languid layer
on this
tired
white bone
under
lying milkskin,
overgrown
and riddled
with existence.

Reminisce of
comfort calling,
but
it’s not in
this bath.
Not this one.

Skin shame
is the same
everywhere.
None of us want
to be in it.

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