BETWEEN US
by Sherry S.

Sorry, I have to go.
I've got to take my skin off.
It piles up, you know.
No, you couldn't,
as normal looking as you are.

If you saw the red spots
under my clothes;
if you lifted my hair
to expose
my scalp,
the glow
beginning between us
would disappear,

so I'll take my skin
and its well-hidden
inflammation
out of this café.
I'll make a quick exit
before you detect it

rather than telling you
about the daily peel:
the spreading of medicine,
the wrap for a couple of hours
before removing skin bits,
washing off in the shower,

then, feeling new 
scales pile up,
psoriasis,
its pervasiveness,
making my life
not mine,
but ours.