Skin

Skin cells are replaced every 2 or 3 weeks.

Therefore, it was 2 or 3 weeks afterward,

approximately,

that our bodies generated skins

that did not know each other.

Skins that had never felt each other;

never caressed,

never rubbed, bumped, grazed, grabbed,

been pressed into each other.

Skins that had never met.

I never want to touch you again.

This new skin doesn't know how to touch you;

doesn't care to make your acquaintance;

doesn't want to learn you over again;

would rather hold you forgotten.

But this skin remembers you, still.

So deep was the imprint of our interlacing fingers;

so subtly weighted was the ring on my right hand;

so scalding was the friction of our love;

dying cells have etched our story down to the vessels

and now all my mistakes are muscle memory.

Skin cells are replaced every 2 or 3 weeks.

Brain cells, however, last a lifetime.

The ones we lose, we do not replace.

Therefore, it was 2 or 3 weeks afterward,

approximately,

that my body generated skin

that did not know you.

Skin that had never felt you;

never caressed,

never rubbed, bumped, grazed, grabbed,

been pressed into you.

Skin that had never met you, but

if we are all cells and synapse

then this skin is spectered;

gray matter ganglion garbling together

the ghosts of old skin because

brain cells last a lifetime.

The ones we lose, we do not replace.