My Skin Became a Touchable Thing

I borrowed clothes,
and thought I was someone
    different. I was accepting

compliments for who
I seemed to be
        becoming.

But I shivered,
in blue and black
layers of sweater.

I could not get warm
until I took it off.
            And then my skin
became a touchable thing.    Like the selkies
who find warmth
in the wet water
           of their true seal
covering.

          I dove, deep,
and found another body,    my own,
waiting for me,
            after all these years,

young
        and on fire
not with what was

        or would be

            possible,
but in the presence
of what was being    given
just then.