Orange It's Time?

Thank you Marja

I peel off the parts that don't fit anymore

And carry them.

I might want them back some time:

maybe when the winds blow

I will want my leaden feet

to hold me in place, no cause to roam.

Maybe if the smoke alarm sounds

I will welcome the way I cover my face

and stop breathing until I'm home again.

Maybe I may even reclaim the way I shake my head

when I fail to understand, no sense of any of it.

But not now.

Now, lighter serves me better.

My skin's exposed,

I could be scorched.

But much better to be peeled from the outside

Than from within.