Hands of mine

one dog bite scar cuts over a vein,
raised,
running to my fingers, or back again.

fingers whose joints flex too far the wrong way--
years of basketball left its mark.

the mark of a tomboy--
chewed nails without any polish or shine,
just one more part of me left abandoned to time.

Inspired by a post by Ghost

Who is this...

Who is this I see
glaring right back at me

A tired, twisted old soul
Driven by the pounding rhythms
echoing from time long gone

An old soul in this new body
Hot, sexy, desired
Unwanted

Look beyond the skin
Slide your fingers under my eyes
probe depths of material
covering, shielding, housing
one small soul

Ageless
Infinite

Me

Innocence floats to the surface

as eyes drift shut

I love you

might not be enough