Skin Again

The skin I’m in
is just a covering. It cannot tell my story.
The skin I’m in
is just a covering. If you want to know who I am
you have got to come inside
and open your heart way wide.
The skin I’m in looks good to me.
It will let you know one small way to trace my identity.
But then again
the skin I’m in will always be just a covering.
It cannot tell my story.
If you want to know who I am you have got to come
inside.
Be with me inside the me of me,
all made up of stories present, past, future
some true to life and others all
fun and fantasy, all the way I imagine me.
You can find all about me—coming close and letting go
of who you might think I am
before you come inside and let me be real
and you become real to me.
All real then. In that place where skin again is one small way to see me
but not real enough to be all
the me of me or the you of you. For we are all inside
made up of real history, real dreams,
and the stuff of all we hope for
when we can be all real
together on the inside.

~bell hooks, Skin Again