Eczema

Everything is dry
Bone dry
My fingers feel like sandpaper
Once you inhale the air outside
You feel the skin on the inside of your nostrils
And
The
Skin cracks like an earthquake
And
The house is equally dry
And strange
And empty
And
Not dusty
An aridness devoid of dust

I woke up to the cracking of the skin on my thumb
There was blood

The house is filled with dead wood
Dry rot