broken
surroundings
hidden
underneath
discrete skins
flat spots
drowning in
superficial
layers of
constricted
capillaries
walls
embed in
bleached skin

made of
salty tears
and eggshell
crystals
cutting out
the wafting
of diurnal
light-blue
ozone

resistant
coating
burning on
crusted
cheek
beneath
thin
recalcitrant
cuticles

forcing into
lamping
layers of
red-blue-
purple-yellow-
green-white-
ecchymosis
symptoms
just­if­ying
on its own

words trapped within thick layers of ice
are embraced by the warmth of spring.
they can finally breathe and be free.

you speak in lullabies made of
tamborines, crashing, harmoniously
into the rocky shore of
that one night;
my sand paper scenes and silhouettes,
you painstakingly disintegrate and love.

the layers of this are complex
to the point where we don’t know
where things end and begin.
but your lion heart and hands feel solid
when most things only burn.

There are many outer layers

Covering your skin

It takes a bit of stripping

To find what lies within

That is the beginning

Dig on and you will find

A thousand coats of rainbow paint

Covering the mind

Glances of a golden glow
Face raised up
and layers thrown
Childlike fun
Mid May rays
its warmth absolved

Cindered slow and tender
Scarlet tones rendered red
The invisible hand slaps
with a silent clap

No spite or bite just light
Remember this tightness
Dangers unknown grown
Charred from above
upon those below

Today, I know what it's like
To be a Russian nesting doll.
Putting a mask over my mask
That masks how I'm really feeling inside.
But you know what?
They're not all bad.
Masks can be beautiful.
And remember, at the end of the day,
You're still you underneath it all.