In My Skin

My skin
has not been my home
since I toddled
on pudgy legs
and tumbled
through strawberry plants
all rosy and sweet.

Like a doll
I have been undressed,
re-dressed,
overly-dressed,
and left bare and barren
on a mound
of airy pleasantries.

Like a puppet
I have been pierced,
and split,
and strung,
fingered and crumpled
by the careless
will of others.

But my womanhood
reclaims me.

My body
remembers home,
remembers its conception song.

In my skin again
I move like the tiger,
sensual,
effortless,
secure in my stripes.

In my skin again,
I breathe like the dragon,
fierce,
fiery,
burning away
the dead and the dying
falseness of me.

Let the doll lay down to rest
and bless her weary spirit.

Let the strings fray and fall
and bless them for their reign.

I am in my skin now.

I am a Sister of the Sun and the Sky now.

Stardust ripples on my skin.

My feet leave drops of moonlight for the wind to kiss.

I speak my own name.

I rest in the wombplace of my own love.

I am home.

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