This thin skin

A dull wound
Pink, soft, velvety thing
But no nerves left in this thin skin

My new skin is frosting
Once you’d swing your hand
into mine
And meet the thud of wood
I could only be looked at
And God forbid there was a mirror around
In it you’d see
Branches like blood vessels
running over logs nailed together

Now I am a quiet pink
No pores
And I bleed strawberry syrup
A burn victim
Having laid with white gauze
Like it was a muslin sheet preparing
The unveiling of Venus

I’ve had my feet bound
The seat of sensitivity
reduced to a three inch sole
To train my crying

I’ve had an iron clasp of bars
around my waist
To practice posture

I’ve had a stack of books
To balance on my head
But to read them
meant my skin would stretch further

If I am the elastic girl
My enemy is the Geek

At four in the morning
I would sneak into the barn
to free the chickens

Bite my head off instead; sure
It will just roll its eyes
and bounce off
back onto my body

Try to peel my skin
And you will find me a singular form
unified to turn liquid at a sign
of danger
Sliding under the crack
beneath the door

Kiss me
It will be soft like a rabbit’s ear
A kiss personal
Yet unknowable

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