her skin

Her skin
was very thin. It shone.
She had outgrown
this world, its might unfurled
like smoke. She laughed and spoke.
“Amen.”
And it began again.

Her skin
was very thin. Her soul
shone through the whole. Like light.
We thought she might
tell us
how we should be.
She laughed.
“I thought you’re telling me.”

Her skin
was very thin. I thought
she was the god I sought. She laughed,
“You won’t get off so fast. You don’t
get out of this. At last
you’ll understand each kiss,
each sorrow, every bliss,
all honor, blame, responsibility,
all glory, shame, belonging not to me
but you, both false and true. The throne
your own.”

Her skin
was very thin. I loved
her as I loved the best
in me
and then the rest, for that
was also me. But much
harder to love as such, it’s true.
She knew.
Her skin
was very thin.