The skin that I wear
has layers of years
molded to remind me
of the detours
I took long ago.

This body,
this shield,
is here to clothe
the very essence of
my being.

It isn’t a reflection
of what you see.
It is the comfort,
a home,
for you to find
and rest upon
with each word,
touch, and

I am all,
and more,
less the masquerades,
of what others

I am me…
I am spirit…
I am.



I inched my way

through covers and barriers

to borrow your warmth,

smell your hair,

feel your skin,

to wrap you around

the rawness of me

as a life jacket,

captivated by the desire

of keeping me hostage

in the prison of your arms.


in the darkness,

rain gently hitting the window,

the wind guiding us afloat,

sparks of electricity

charged and brought

us back to the origin

of you,


as we sailed through

the ocean of us.


In conscious hours

as the clock ticks slowly

I search for exposed flesh,

digging my toes against your feet,

ankles, calves…

trailing my hand under blankets

to find your wrist,



to feel the heat of you.

I move to your breathing,

careful not to wake you

but enough

that you will let me into

your dreams

visiting some exotic island

where the temperature

is not freezing

and I can finally

feel human again.