Eggshell Skin
Eggshell skin
splits open under
doubt.
Wayward bandages crease the wrinkled folds
holding porcelain wrappers
together,
covering fleshy notions of
maybes.
Paper mache
is the thickest thing I know.
The rest seeps water
through crow's-feet-smiles.
Cracks in china.
But I have hope.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world