Invisible

I am a child.
Will you play?
If I shut my eyes, you go away…
I too have vanished;
shuttered lids
will hide each little trusting kid.

I am a girl.
What do you see?
Not the bones that scaffold me.
We both will rattle into age,
hearts slowing in their
frosted cage.

I am a woman.
Can you see?
With veins that branch a crimson tree.
Not an empty bloodless ghost,
a midday shadow,
a mandatory dose.

I am a person
but I must hide
with all my colours trapped inside.
Every breath not white enough,
my skin too thin,
their hands too rough.

We are all human.
Open your eyes:

Invisible

we share the reflection of sea and skies,
sunbrushed skin and moonlit dreams;
we are all there will be,
and are all that has been.