anxiety in good company

i begin at the cuticle.
at first, skin clings –
grown comfortable
snug against muscle.

my fingers work hard.
with nails and knuckles
and eventually it begins
to loosen.

it peels back.
muscle meets air
breaths like a bottle
of wine.

it takes a long time.
the skin over joints
wrinkles like empty
sausage casings.

i get to the wrist.
tear the skin like
tape, but no sound.
i leave my hands
in my lap.

muscle-bare and wet
i start just below
the chin. the white
of the jaw bone
shines like eggshell.

 

 

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