by Madison Reid

On the patio in a wooden chair  

I pore over my hands

peel flicking skin away,

hold it to the light.

She does no more than she must

yet I worship her, her landmark side effects

grapefruit clouds/sprouts and May

chemical change to the skin 

I thank her

for repetition

for tinged blistered skin

for a brand new place

for wind to rush in