Cast Away

Like a cat in spring time
I shed.

It has happened to me before.

The skin itches,
it changes,
it sheds.

Who was I then?
No.
That is a skin I no longer recognize.
It is alive elsewhere;
flesh draped over my mind.

Flesh drapes over my bones.
It holds, it hugs, it defines.

I shed
constantly.
I shed
everyday.

I'm not going to stop.
It's not going to stop.
It can't be stopped.

Change can't be stopped.

[ SJM ]