Skin by Meshael Al Blehed

Posted on February 11, 2013 by


I pledge my loyalty to the corners of your weak smile.

I declare my affinity for nothing more but the creases held heavy by the warmth in your face.

I see eternities in your skin that fall edge over edge over edge.


A lifetime in every wrinkle and fold… each lifetime takes me back to when life was kinder and I had you with me.


Please tell me the dirt appreciates the privilege of hugging your very bones. Can it see past the decomposition of skin and flesh to your exceptional core? Can it understand why we shed more than our weight in tears at the prospect of giving you to the ground below?

You were never meant to be beneath us.



I remember the day I went to the hospital morgue to say my goodbyes. I definitely expected myself to cry, but all I shed was acceptance.


I leaned in to kiss your forehead knowing that skin was conductive and I wanted you to know everything I knew because I could never verbalize it.

I wanted but couldn’t send you comfort or my last words but I believed that I could.


I wished so hard that in that slight moment of contact you could see through my eyes; you were stunning.  It was a brief moment but what I left with you in that kiss was bigger than the phrase “A part of me.”


I walked away with the void of what I had left with you and I had to adjust to the new weight; light, free but not incomplete because I think I walked away with an even bigger portion of you with me.

Posted in: Skin