I have a patch of dry skin.
Look closely, and you might see it.
It sits on my wrist, and each day it grows worse and worse.
Winter is not akin to my skin.
Its harsh chill eats at the flesh, causing the inflamed wound to fester.
Don't touch it
Or I might shout.
It is but a mild lesion.
But don't look too close.
You might find I've lied about its cause.
