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Skin

I’m about 1.5 meters of skin if we forget
that bodies are made in loops and bends.

I’m about ten shades lighter than black,
One shade darker than yellow bone,
Apparently still not quite yet red bone.

I’m still light enough to sunburn easily,
But too dark to tan.
Yet not too dark to get darker.

My bruises start out green
ending in purplish-black patches that
hurt almost as long as they last.
While Hot showers and back rubs leave me red;
Boys who suck my neck complain they cant own me.

My legs are a patchwork of dry skin
Cracks that sometimes remind me of pans drying after rain.
If you pay attention you might notice the tiniest bits of hair.
Elsewhere it grows thick, untamed,
An expression of myself


I’ve got scars
Little stories but none in ink just yet.
Just folding, healing skin.

Little treasures of beauty spots hide across my body
Like constellations against a the sky.
Instead of silver they’re black
Against my 10 shades lighter.

I’m about 1.5 meters tall of skin.
If we don’t count the way it loops around my flesh.
If we don’t count the sacks on my chest.
If we don’t count the places where my flesh curves.
Or my ten toes, finger, ears and such...
Or the bumps that gave me my tiger stripes.
Were my skin stretched but I never quite ate enough to fill.

I’m about 1.5 meters of skin.
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