Skin
For a day, I wonder how you would dance
If you wore my bones and blanketed yourself
with my skin.
Would you still know what love is?
Can you handle the world
through my lens which can only
View everything broken
as a responsibility to be fixed?
In my skin, can you smile
knowing your lips won't get kissed?
I wonder how your eyes would open and close
without reminding yourself
of their happy ghosts.
Would you still care about the next sunrise?
Can you handle a life
through the lens of a withering daughter,
Doing everything in artifice
because of the lack of love for her?
And yet I wonder, can you sleep
and not ponder
If the bones you cavort in,
Still want to be wrapped in skin?
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