Flesh
My flesh bothers me... it is mine, it is all i carry with me
Unceremoniously daily
I do not own it
It does not own me
It just displays my moods
My excitement
My joy
It merely reflects my tears
My age
Everything i am
How much water or wine i have consumed
How much cake i have desired
How many times i have torn it in sheer frustration
I do not hate it
I do not like it but...
If once in a blue moon it encourages smothered swipes with your flesh
I am delighted
Thank you...
poem by Karen Sinclair
Added by Poetry Lover
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