Six layer epidermis bag
Washing whimsical.
Splashes,
Tidal torrents lashing at my broken waters.
Foaming toxic exfoliation's.
Scrub at the seams,
Behind knees at elbow creases
Ran raw with weeping wounded warrior worries.
Find me an abrasive.
Cut me to the quick.
Scratch me
Rip at my biggest organ. Mindful.
I need you to clean me purporting to be, paid handsomely for the undertaking softly said .
But with hazel branch and effort you overwrite macroscopic scraping,
with lashes scalpels opening my six layer epidermis bag of organs.
Would I float if encased in happiness? Relativity says I can't reach the speed where what matters is converted into sterile energy.
So with little effort I apply emollient.
Cling the dirt to my shadows .
Await the day when amphibian cometh. Stuff my gills for now with material to emulsify the noxious air.
Pull the cord tight on that six layer epidemic bag .
About the Creator
Paul Beckett
I’m a writer, horologist & joy filled fantasist. Reality to me is plastic. I’m fascinated with time, quantum physics, analogue and fashion.
My writings at least 69% autobiographical, often 99%
Fav:Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams- S.Plath
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