Modern Day Selkie

Sometimes, I want to crawl out of my skin, fold it up neatly, and bury it underneath a stack of winter sweaters in the back of my closet. Then I'd walk right out the front door, down the worn steps, into the night, and steal a car. A red corvette, I think. I'd drive and drive until I found someone with a life. Someone who has purpose, and writes books, and attends dinner parties where everyone listens to her every word, because she is important and she moves the world. I'd visit Italy and Spain. In my new skin, I'd sail around the world. And play guitar. And paint with my feet and speak seven different languages, fluently. I'd climb mountains in Tibet and build cities. And when I was done, I'd drive back to our street, climb our worn steps, and dig my skin out from underneath the sweaters, slip it back on, and climb into bed with you, never missing a note.

This piece is my entry for One Stop Poetry.