dried paint
by Natasha Leung
Natasha adores tigers, hand painted pottery, and tiny things with enormous personalities. They love to write poetry out of and into anything, whenever they see something wonderful.
scraping off handrails
plastered to socks
imbedded in fibers of fabric
hugging skin
peeling off like glue
in first grade i covered myself
like a snake
a second skin
and slithered out
long enough after everyone was used to
the feeling of pulling at arm hairs
tugging at muscle
stretching and straining
until each fiber broke apart
into a whole new layer
a jacket
paper thin and translucent
in the shape of a body
i crumble it apart into manageable pieces
small chips like clumps of sand
mudded together
saliva coats each one like water soaking dried fruit
rehydrating, reawakening