We don’t come out clean.

I have spots on my skin,
Which run deep like an ocean,
And when you touch me there,
I know,
The water ripples in concentric circles,
And when you swirl and dive,
I know,
You sediment on me like a hairy mole,
But it’s only when you came out gasping for breath,
And receded to the shore,
Did I realize,
You did not come out dry,
as you might have wished,
The water touched the horizon,
And the skin the soul!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s