A Different Skin

Blue brick stone eyes,
like four leaves, I am in luck.
Liquid doesn’t drip from rock.

Not all skin is the same.
Some grow into cat-o-nine tail,
but you…

you douse poison like a God.

I am witness,
without religion,
without faith,
without hope,

out of the blue,
brick stone eyes
came to me

an old idea –
a different skin
growing on me.

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3 thoughts on “A Different Skin

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