Your Skin

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The subtle kisses

Of fine lines

Drawn with my sharp blade

Against your skin


Each nerve dances

And stands livid

Given voice by the separation

Of your skin


Petite crimson orbs

Rise and blossom

Drawn out by steel caresses

To your skin


Soft wet mewlings

Grace your tongue

Your eyes no longer blinded

By your skin


Skin deep beauty

My secret envy

Now I feel much closer to you

Wearing your skin


Dead left hanging

Seen truly naked

Your lack of beauty revealed

Without your skin

copyright 2000, M. W. Anderson