The Skin in the Game

The city has
Shed its skin

Its blacker
Than night
Skin

Its honey
Skin

Its butterfly
Skin

The city has
Shed its skin
And buried the
Bones of memory

Without ritual
Without thanks
Without goodbye

It has shed its
Tortilla skin
Its mango skin
Its drum skin
Its church tambourine skin

It has shed
The skin of
Its memory

The skin of
Its life

The city has shed
Its skin

And moved
On

© 2015 Tony Robles

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