Skin x Spirit: A Love Story

The skin I am most comfortable in

The reciporcal reality of it being 

defining but divisive 

accomodating but attractive 

Is this all that I am?

Is what the world have to offer me too much or is it just enough? 

Too many compliments on my skin. 

Without repeated pressure there is no strain to grow. 

Is what we don't understand scarier, 

the more or less you get to know? 

I am told I am an acquired taste...

fascinating but familiar 

like brown sugar like Sunday dinnner 

Like home.

Is this all that I am?

Is what I have to offer before you a gift or a curse?

This uncertainty I possess and my presence all together....too familiar.

Like someone you used to know...

Or someone who didn't know themselves at all. 

This skin is all I know.

All I have known is to invite change. 

Invite its entity as a familiar stranger to my door.

But perform as if I wasn't expecting its arrival. 

As if I didn't recongize its voice calling my name. 

The more it inhabits my space 

I wonder if my response to recongition to the spirit is a requirement. 

Or a reminder of someone who is no longer a visitor...

The realm of the royal priesthood that is my birthright. 

Is this all that I am?

That there is more to who I am.

This skin that I am most comfortable in ...

Crafted on purpose but presented improperly.

Improper like hiding what I privately practice

but only portraying what I have publicly perfected.

Inevitable like the enemy plotting on my pre-destined pain.

Was the pain neccessary to develop a lifelong strength? 

Or was it a sorrow I was never meant to endure?

That this skin I am most comfortable in...

Is my reality that mortality is mundane without the merciful hand of

His majesty.