It’s a pity that

you can’t take off your skin

like an old dress

can’t cover the rags

with a smart dress

so that to impress

can’t embroidery stitch the holes

made by moles

 

it’s a pity that

you can’t pull out your heart

to bask in the sun

can’t force it cut and run

from the life of one

can’t let your soul

fly in the sky like birds

to defend it from hurts

 

that’s how you go

trying nothing to show

avoiding the turns

keeping scars and burns

anxiety and echoes of doubt

can’t speak aloud

being hurt so much

by the occasional touch

 

©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

The 30^th of July, 2012