I used to feel shame for the roughness
when I was very young
But shame is a naked feeling
and I could not keep it
Pull, stretch, tear, grow
I have lost my taste for softness
for the vulnerability
of naked skin
Everything raw
will have its callus
Scratch, scab, harden, grip
My varnished palms
made so through pain
So too, the aegis of my being
Once stripped
Now grown anew
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