New Skin
I reached out and touched her skin so soft, pure as the driven snow, but in her heart, the scars I saw, of a marriage gone awry. Tattered and torn, ripped and ragged, sharp jagged edges exposed, stripped of her identity, her skin she had to shed, to get from the place that once was her life, to her strange new world unknown. And in my arms, and in my heart, and in her world anew, I held her. And with a cloth I tended her wounds, but ever so gently, for I knew how tender her new skin was, as mine was once the same. She is now healing, and regaining herself, and learning to live in her new skin, and when the time comes, she needs one honest and true, one who will allow her to retain that which she is, here I stand, with open arms, let it be me. Written September 9th, 1998 © on Dec 09 2001 04:15 AM PST 0 • 10
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"I reached out and touched ..."