Skin Deep
Your epidermis is moving,
pushing cells from deep within,
and even before they greet the light,
they’ve all discreetly perished.
So many flakes of skin
ghost to ground without a trace
that running a hoover over a floor
is an unwitting funeral.
Don’t mourn
what must be sacrificed:
the living die
in mute instalments.
And remember
that when you stare into the face of your wife,
all which makes her beautiful
has recently deceased.
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