I have traced the pockmarks of your skin;
and felt the record of your life.
You let me see that every year
a part of you must die
so that you can reinvent yourself
for the next.
You enchant me
with the knowledge
you have gained by
growing wise, but
cannot or will not
A.M. Walsh started writing poetry in 2018. His work has been published in the literary magazines Chaleur, Royal Rose and Drunk Monkeys. He is presently working on a pamphlet.