When her skin grew too heavy
She shed it off
Particles of tax and doubt
Grains of regret
Whisked into space at the brush
Of her fingers
--Sierra July
Poet's Notes: Picturing how snakes shed their skin, and
thinking of how crabs leave their old shells behind for bigger, greater ones, I
thought it would be neat if humans could do the same. Instead of making it
literally about losing skin, changing clothes, or moving house, I wrote about
easily releasing burdens with the whisk of a hand. I didn't state anywhere in
the poem that the 'she' mentioned is human though, since I thought it would be
just as interesting if a reader interpreted the subject as a space alien or
some other creature with fingers.
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