poem

Peel back your skin

Peel
back
your skin.


There’s a
mask
underneath – don’t you
feel it?


Doesn’t it
itch?
It’s made of bone
and not yours. Haven’t
you felt
your body
fight it?


Peel back
your skin
for me – and we
will paint
your features back,
again.


You will need
a new name,
by then, of course.
Don’t worry.
There are people.
They’ll know what to do.


Just
peel back your
skin for me.


Peel back your skin
for me
and they will be in touch,
those who will be
re-naming you.

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