The Real Me

By Shlomit Kriger

Etch the lines so perfectly weaved
to form the warm skin of my hand.
Dig deeper, peel the layers.
Leap into the ocean of blood,
take a sip and stir it in your mouth.
Swim to the left chamber of my heart,
then to the nails at the edge of my right arm,
down through the kidneys to my feet
and back to the top.
Climb my neck.
Dance upon the wisdom and experience
stirring in the veins
entwined through my brain.
Peer through my eyes.
Suck in my breath.
Play your song upon my ribs.
Slide down my spine.
Nestle in my womb.

No matter where you reach
or how deep you dive,
you cannot grasp
my essence.