Time plays games
with me and
          she’s been winning
On an off-kilter axis,
Atlas, the world is spinning
a little too fast

It’s been months
already since I
          shed my masks

still somehow I’m surprised
it doesn’t show
how bright
I am
newborn it’s-a-baby-girl pink
where
                                                       (ar­e you excited?)
smooth skin meets the
grindstone
peeling away scales grown
denying myself

You promised, Momma,
you’d never be embarrassed
how could you be
I mean
I am new-born-baby-girl pink
light and airy          
                
                          not so sure
                          its a sure thing
                          you’ll see

But

the truth is that I
don’t have to
open my mouth
               to be

                            and somehow

that makes it all



              a little



                               slower