Thank you to Jack Caradoc at Dreich Magazine
for publishing my poem.
The Beauty Of Skin
We know of skin, basically,
what it is and what it can do.
Conceived as a protector,
giving the ability to hold shape.
From cradles are birthed color combinations,
the widest possible varieties,
numbering in the thousands.
Appreciate the beauty of these complexions over vertebrae:
The pigment of a walnut wood carving;
A deep tone of beige, as the great plain of a desert;
Flaxen spun, or emerging as porcelain
like the stony part of bones;
The hue of natural linen
or luxurious silk;
Weathered shells;
Durable wool covering leather
along the spine.
Sign designs etched upon,
tattoos inked within,
perhaps in ritual.
And, if we would believe optimistic testimony,
we’d find it all doubtlessly flattering
in notes of darkened, lightened personal vision.
We would know of skin
as the instrument of biological music,
developing a never before held adoration
for the variegated of Earth’s most vital organs,
most servicable to each other,
offering cosmic appreciation.
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