'Skins' by Patience Agbabi

It’s not like you don’t turn me on.

Every time you walked past

I thought, She’s fit.

Come-to-bed eyes.

We both want to

feel my skin

against your skin.

It’s not like you’re on

or I’m changing into

a woman. It’s my past.

Look into my eyes.

I just wanted to fit

in. A misfit.

Mixed race but light-skinned,

brown hair, blue eyes,

bootboy with a hard-on.

I passed.

I had to.

Sign up to our Bookmarks newsletter

Read more

Then I got this tattoo.

I did it in a fit

of rage. It soon passed.

You want to read my skin?

Whatever turns you on.

I closed my eyes

and put my soul on ice,

denied a black dad, too

terrified to let on.

I wore the outfit,

marched with the skins.

I don’t like to talk about the past,

I hate my past.

My big lie reflected in their eyes,

their hatred in my skin.

With this tattoo

I’m a walking Photofit.

That’s why I keep my clothes on.

It’s past midnight. I’ll call a cab if you want me to.

But your eyes know how to fit

a condom like a second skin. Come on…

Patience Agbabi is a British poet and performer with a particular emphasis on the spoken word. Agbabi was born in London to Nigerian parents, and grew up in North Wales with her adopted family. Skins was culled from The Guardian U.K.

READ: 'She Broke a Broken Heart' by Ayeni Tolulope