Standing under

an

Aztec age sun

I see myself

strip

the skin from

your

flesh.

It falls away

as easily

as the

 fresh green wrap

on newly

ripened

corn.

This is important.

I drape

your pelt

around my shoulders

i welcome in

a new season

of

good luck

and

good fortune.

Suddenly I

blink,

realise that I

am

here and

now,

I don’t need

your skin.

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