Ecdysis
When I have shed my skin and left behind
a pale and translucent memory of myself,
will you find it, coiled upon coil
in a great long moebius band?
But if you try to pick it up, to feel
the texture, running through your hands,
to hold it as you once held me, the memories
will crumble into a litter of dust and scale.
But somewhere, somewhere, I will be
dancing my glittering dance,
singing my sinuous song,
waiting for you to shed your skin
and dance with me.
Edward Alport is a retired teacher and proud Essex Boy. Currently he is a poet, writer and gardener. He has had poetry, articles and stories published various webzines and magazines and performed on BBC Radio and Edinburgh Fringe. His Bluesky handle is @crossmouse.bsky.social. His website is crossmouse.wordpress.com.
Amethyst Review 