Skin
My skin has become like a ripe fruit
sauteed in the sunlight,
living...
breathing...
skin.
The spirit within has crossed over,
a kind of warm frosted paradigm
as the breath therein, taints the breath without love.
For what is breath without love?
My dear...it is only fear.
That morbid, bitter word,
a state of mind behind what may seem despondent at first.
But fear not, dear,
love is the sunlight that gives life to the skin,
the skin that hosts the spirit within,
living...
breathing...
skin.
Go out into the light and breathe...
thank your God's for the breath that you freely receive.
For all of love is but dead flesh
if not for the breath that's given free.
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