I call it skin hunger.
In this no-touch time
I place my fingertip to paper
press a brayer on the margins of history
into layer upon layer of new memories
in this skin hunger
of no-touch time.

I break
an old book cover in half
of an unread life of dystopian
times a century ago.

I snip
strips of vintage script,
glue my skin hunger into the surface
in this no-touch, high-touch time.
Will this art work remember me
the same way I put my arms around a friend?Will it remember my embrace
before our touching time is erased?

I peel
away the pelt of rippled cardboard,
reveal the stratum of yesterday’s life,
before skin hunger
in this no-touch time.
Now I build a new rind
for my hungering hull
I paste paper into the pastiche of a different life and lose the masterpiece of my past.

Paper is my new lover’s skin
thin casing, ragbag husk,
I cut, rip, tear it up
before it turns to dust.

Christine’s art work
can be seen at

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