Where, thanks to the Sun

my skin is paper-thin,

I submerge myself in nature blessing.

Portia’s hand steadies mine as

calendula is applied sparingly.

International, ancient, remedy

devised long before my ancestors

stopped painting themselves blue.

I drop down deeply into a part of me

Only another ancient can be part of this process.

Each time I drop down through

I remove from myself another layer

Drop down through another place

I can forget

Stripping though the dermis

until I am left with my skin, paper-thin

and a kind hand to smooth into life’s

dust jacket, skin food