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LJW
Poems
Aug 2018
Dusty Skin
Before time began I had no name
nor face, nor home
I needed no future, nor plan
no clothing.
only skin
with sand blown against
the rough dry surface,
tan, dusty.
desert worn.
Earthened.
The days promised to carry on without end,
I never aged, never grew old
the silver in my hair fit.
I could climb the sierras, scale rocks,
swim the American river if I wanted to.
Men and women smiled at me.
I had beauty.
Time steals,
and now I only wish to make peace
so she might return my aim towards grace.
So my silver might return,
so the sand of my skin might roughen me
into a well worn woman
of the hottest day.
August 30, 2018
Written by
LJW
52/F/Baltimore
(52/F/Baltimore)
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