Maria-Hélèna Pacelli

my skin: on steroids

My skin is a mass of scar tissue.

It pulls when I move, tightens when I shift, hardens when I breathe

Biopsy upon rashes, scar tissue upon hives, the memories of being prodded like inert mounds of unfeeling soil

Feeding on poison for cosmetic healing

Breeding, bleeding into love on the surface of unappealing ice

Bumpy roads, grooves of slime, gutters of sublime longing, sinews and cesspools of guilt and shame

No one to blame. A lesson in forgiveness, self-acceptance and humility.

Absolution. Dissolution of boundaries between self and the external world.

Resolution. Retribution. Reconciliation.

Boundaries melt of moulting flesh, skin burns and memory erases scratches and scars.

Revealing, beneath, the sacred contract of beauty in all its forms.

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