Run your fingers
through the depth of my soul.
be strong, like a sprig of oak
swaying in the wind of a tempest.
For once, just once, I beg of you,
feel exactly what I feel,
believe as I, of what is truth,
perceive, what your eyes see,
for I perceive what is before you.
Taste the long tracks of tears
examine and for once, just once,
understand what life screams into
your mind, emblazons in your eyes,
whispers softly to your beating heart.
Just imagine, as it may be all that’s left.
*Excoriate: first appeared in English in the 15th century, comes from “Excoriatus,” the past participle of the Late Latin verb ‘excoriare’, meaning, “to strip off the hide.”