Look at me. Look past the porcelain skin, the scars of battles lost. Look past the speckled freckles that lay peppered like a lonesome map across me. Look at me. Look past the topaz blue, look through the hidden pain the treasured memories, walk through the fears and the tears that beg to fall. Look at me. Look past my smile, my frown, my whimpering lips, my nervous bite. Look beyond the softness of precious pink lips. Look at me. Strip away my layers, place the past at the door, my fears on the floor, leave my insecurities on some distant shore. Look at me. Look at me naked breathe in the essence of my soul and sip greedily from my spirit. Let your fingers wander across me in perfect symbolism of my perfect imperfection. Taste me in your beating heart, taste me in your swarming soul, taste me in your fleeting spirit. Look at me. See me. Feel me. Take me. Let go of societies mask let it drop to the floor, show me. Show me what lays beyond your skin, show me who you are when all is stripped bare, show me what lays there. Show me eyes with eternal depth, show me lips that tingle anticipation of knowing. Show me. Look at me. Look at me. Show me.
Karen Hayward ©2016