I woke, my skin peeling,
large white flakes, my epidermal identity coming off in chunks.
Unstoppable shedding, several layers at a time, my bark was unfurling, my banana was peeled,
my paint all but cracked away.

Talk about identity crisis.

Underneath I found a small rolled piece of paper, a letter from the tooth fairy–                     a testament to bravery.
There was some sad black sand from the longest beach.
A monopoly shoe, my Brother’s tear, a rope of hairballs slung around my former armpit–

I swear I never swallow.

A jumping ant, a piece of my horses hoof, a strung out Michael Jackson cassette–
HIStory; Past, Present and Future, Book I., a broken turtle ocarina that can now play only one note and
a very very faded old tye-die sock.

So that’s what’s under there.

Dig through the ultimate layer of brittle skin and,
Soft.
Soft like new born kittens and other delightfully furry things.
What has become of this leper? Crumbling into the inexplicably
soft?
The mirror reflects feline similarities, satiates my hunger,
expresses electric color schemes, sharpens my wonder.

Leopard you, soft and sweet and hot, hot, hot,
Pink.
Lazy and agile and high flying, curious,
hungry, warm and lethal.

I see you. I meet you. I eat you.