See, the sea is crawling, over these mountain tips far west
and when I go away, to it
I see fiddling with my old hat
playing with the worn out shoes
with all the past faces, lying spread out on the ground
Don‘t you wonder how they all were you?
Fit your face? All once occupied it?
your current one?
every time your skin unravels
a piece of you is gone
and every time your ears are taken by another new, beautiful song
old lining, old skin breaks off, breaks free
leaving you, blank for a moment
allowing for new definition,
but remembers to never stay long.
Comments
This is wonderful! This poem is reviving. Keep it up!! :)
Thank you!
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