Epidermis 

Out of the womb

Fresh and uncomfortable, 

Temperature irregular. Hold me ­— 

Skin-to-skin — so that

The absence of amniotic fluid

Is only a fleeting memory (but then, 

I have no memories, only 

Flashes of what’s to come once I’m

Ripped from you)

And you hold on so tight that you 

Kill me anyway.

Dermis

A head lays on a shoulder:

Not close enough. I 

Turn and rest my mouth on your 

Skin. 

Still not close enough. 

Let apart your nictitating membrane so I can see

Into the back of your eye;

The part the optometrist checks for health in longevity.

I want to be the lens,

But only if you need one.

If you see clearly could I still be the lens?

That part is up to you but the 

State of your skin does not 

Reveal much so I can only hope you 

Open four eyes

And tell me yourself.

Hypodermis

If only I could shed it and

Grow a new one. 

Sick and itchy and 

Monstrous. 

Rip it off: give me Kaa or Gein.

Once the outer layer is removed 

My antidote will be only you, do you

Mind sharing a blanket?