This poem is about the self and the protection of the self. It treads the line between isolation and protection. It also explores the porosity of the self felt by so many of us. It draws from the visceral salmon skin and plays with light and death - the extremes of living and the self.
If you enjoy this piece, consider:
This also includes a reading, this is something I am considering implementing into more of my posts. Let me know if you like it!
Sometimes, I just want salmon skin. I want to go into the sun and have scales That rainbow into water's light. I want to place it over my own And have a second layer - The first is too filamental Elemental, it slips away from me Weathering without exception. But then, though My salmon skin Would stick to me As I lay down, I would stand And it would slip off. And I would try to sow it To my own But the needle would bend And buckle And the salmon skin would tear. Sometimes, I just want salmon skin. I want to slip through the water Without a ripple. I want to swim as others do Without my skin coming off too. I went to the fishmarket. And saw a dead salmon Mucous eyes slipped into my vision And stiff tails. I bought a small one - Took it home - Sliced, diced Attempted to entice cold skin Onto warm. I placed the skin on my own The sun shuttered through the window - The skin slid from my cheek And slapped the tile next to my feet.
This week, I have been working on writing up the interview with . This will be released next week! Don’t forget that the Poetic Library is holding its first-ever Zoom meeting to analyse and discuss one of the poems in the library! If you would like to get involved, become a paid subscriber.
Saffron, have you read Julia Armfields work? This reminded me of her short story collection Salt Slow! She writes similarly strange, haunting stories that push human-animal boundaries. Anyway, I really love how you capture the uncanny and visceral in your writing. I also love salmon skin.
Somewhat off topic, but if you left fish scales on your skin for long enough, I'm pretty sure they'd graft. So maybe salmon skin is possible? Lovely poem, too!