The thinner I am scraped
the more the light shines out
rain-translucent, thin as air
soap-bubble fragile with layers yet.
Hold me to the candle:
read the words left after the blade.
"sinner, survivor, scribe and stirrer,
of pots unstable and certain saviors."
The original is long gone
crossed with maps, time, shooting stars.
Look close: streets, bylines, doggerel verse,
the blessing at dawn and the prodigal curse.