OFF

The layers went on thin, went on slow

Each year

Each failed connection

Each attempt at getting close

All the while the colors were slowly changing

Vibrancy replaced by a dull film sealed by complacency

Until I could no longer perspire to detoxify, couldn't feel a

breeze on my neck, the sun on my back

The day finally came when I realized

I had to take you off

The dirty film you had become covering my body, my being

I peeled you off with joy the way a child loves to peel glue

from his skin

I peeled you off and felt the cool air

I peeled you off and saw once again the color of my skin

I peeled you off so I could find me

                                        - Ruth Yasharpour