I Lay My Skin Bare Before My Eyes Poem By Aiman

I lay my skin bare before my eyes

My right hand fanning the life off my bosom,

or is it the heat?

The cold froze my four senses

while the Summers stole my hearing.

This is the year of the telescope

and just yesterday,

we celebrated airports, annually.

The trees are hermaphrodites

Their bodies sweat of erring.

Three figures of gloom run wild in the villages

Dear my! Save your girls!

From their fathers, mothers, and their brothers

What provokes the animals shouts out to trees

The time will grow weary, frail, and old

of its occupants and consumers.

My time has gone beyond me,

and I am left in the Capitol

or am I the Capital?

Aiman.

Read Also: Coleridge’s Biographia Literaria