It's Still Life

A Fleck of Skin     (revised version)

I was blinkered-blind. Couldn’t
see myself for myself.

A body possessed by decades gone.

Its narrow shading fled.
Its memory swept aside.

Those dead flies on a windowsill.

But then old photos glimpsed,
a reminder of luke-warm tint.

I see myself as a fleck of skin.

Me sitting, skeletal, at a table.
Those ghost-thin arms of mine.

I can’t recall – did I cast a shadow.

We were Tiggys, back when body
image was absurdité. Back when

my clothing was single digit size.

Back when I was blinker-blind,
and hadn’t found myself.

A Fleck of Skin     (original version)

It was back when I couldn’t
see myself for myself.

That body is long gone,
its narrow shading fled,

its memory swept away
like dead flies on a windowsill,

And then I’m reminded. I see
myself in luke-warm sepia photos.

I see myself as a fleck of skin.

Me sitting, skeletal, at a table with
those ghost-thin arms of mine.

I can’t remember – did I cast a shadow.

Back then when body image was
an unknown issue. Back when

my clothing was single digit size.

Back when I couldn’t
see myself for myself.

for dVerse “Write Like a Dog – Edit Like a Cat   © Misky 2020 Image from WikiArt CC:00

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