Gillian Mann, Australia

My flesh is pale,
Sunless.
The hair on my arms,
Invisible.
But as I move my lips
across my uncovered skin
I am aware
I have fur.



I grow older.
In the soft skin
by my lip
grows a hard dark hair.
I remove it.
I pluck it out.
With a tweezer I press it against my lip.
It is a thorn.