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