Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2011
Sly second skin hanging off my bedpost or
curled under my pillow.
It climbs into my dreams,
snugs up against me, the thinnest safest skin.
These words are my epidermis
pulled tight over me like a hood or a sheet
or socks and I can tell
anyone anything.
Erin Doyle
Written by
Erin Doyle
Please log in to view and add comments on poems