Covered

Standard

Ivory,
chocolate,
saffron,
mocha.
It covers our bones,
houses blood,
nerves,
the atoms that design
who we are,
who we become.
It displays our pain
through scars,
creases,
wrinkles,
and blotches.
We etch pictures
into our skin,
images that shout
identity,
memory,
joy,
love.
This organ,
this living piece
of all we are,
advertises our hearts
to the world,
publicizes our individuality.
Skin hides us,
obscures vision
and understanding.
Underneath,
we crouch,
huddle,
fade
from the realities
that blind.
Shaking below
the thin skin
that encases
heart
and blood
and bone
that shows
but also can’t help
but hide.

(Poem previously posted on my other blog under a different name, for those of you who have read this before.)

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