Paper Thin Skin

Hands, hardened by work,
softened by love,
learn the curves of a woman–
in spring.

Hearts, broken then fixed,
blending lines of passion
with the destruction of lust–
this summer.

Voices, gentled by age,
crack as they call
for lost loved ones–
each autumn.

Skin, aged to paper thin,
cracks in dry wind
during a warm spell–
last winter.

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This entry was posted in Poetry.

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