Just Skin

For someone who just has skin
I seem to skim the tops of indifference

For someone who blames the wind
Every strand of hair stuck on my lipstick

No glance sideways will forgive the front
Angled ugly in the wreckage left to sift

I am the bottom of the pot
Some scrape to taste, others leave adrift
Some call it a curse, those want the gift
I call the bluff, beauty I am not.

For someone who just lives
I seem to salvage then supplicate it
Already abiding the words
That don’t exist


Kelly Curiel
December 3, 2004
3am