Old Skin

I’m looking back over old stuff to post again, remembering inspiring moments, and struggling to remember others. The genesis of a thought, the spark of an idea, so often gets jumbled with the day to day. It’s been a busy year, and certain things feel like I wrote them two years ago. The date stamp on the pieces shows other wise. Older pieces often feel like they were written by someone else entirely, a version of myself that’s been all but washed away eroded by the accumulated storms of living, old skin scrubbed away and out to sea.

19/9/17

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Roller Grrl – A Poem

woman in roller skates leaning on wall

 

Roller Grrl

A bubble-gum sneer and
socks up to skinned knees,
not scuffed solely from tumbles.
The unbashful bruises bared
are born of tight-curved speeding
and unpadded, wild rides,
hip-whipping, hard jamming,
climaxing in the
spills she loves most.
She’s trundled over a score of
polished boards and eager hearts
rolled back to her feet,
gravel-grazed and grinning,
blocking shame at every bend.

Cameron Lincoln 2017.