I DECIDED TO WORSHIP MY SKIN

By Caroline Walling

Unzip from center to crown; allow a slow un-bonding. With a shrug it slips the bones of my arms; rolls down the curve of hip, peels from the softness of thighs, the firm calves, the map of feet.

I step out.

For a moment it is        a cashmere cat,             a salmon skin,                 an oyster.

I gather it up like a newborn, lay it on the table

Hair spread from the scalp as a peacock's tail. Close the thinness of the eyelids; brush a thumb over the plum of lips. Arrange hands as palm fronds. Part the smooth wide thighs.

Chase a finger over the ripples of silver fish. Along the horizon of the C-section. Wonder at the memory. Salt each with my tears.

I emolliate it’s pale with rose hip oil, anoint it with cedar and sumac.

Let it dry in the full sun and cool in the blessing of a full moon.

When this is all done. I prostrate my body to the skin belly; spread my limbs across the skin limbs; press my face to the skin face

We lie together, like lovers, under a dawn of pomegranate and saffron.

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