The skin registers the wind,
draws the shadow in the instant,
absorbs silences in scattered pores.
Each fold holds an echo,
no name brands,
cycles buried under minimal gestures.
Time drags cells,
erases contours,
replaces faces without asking permission.
The mirror hesitates, rejects the reflection,
forget that it was once certain.
The skin speaks but no one listens.
Wow.
PAR, this is amazing.
I keep trying to find the right words to tell you how much I like this. You left me dumbfounded. That’s pretty damn good.
❤😎
Its a thought few people look at closely. Our skin walks us through the world & experiences so much, tells so many stories. And that last line…truth
😎❤
Brilliantly penned, PAR. Incredible write my friend, so glad you’re here. I missed reading these gems you pen. Appreciate you.
Damian
❤😎
Our skin becomes thicker & thicker as we age and witness the impurities of life. Excellent piece PAR. Great to see you.
😎❤