Clothes constrain
Skin contains
The insides I wear on the outside
You don't have to scratch the surface
To find hidden meanings
To catch a glimpse of passion
To see my blood reaching boiling point
You don't have to dig your nails in
To reach through the seven layers
To hear the whispers written on my bones
Scriptures ooze from the ruptures
Lush red tastes of rusted words
Skin the binds
Skin that hides
Stretches over my memories
I wear the patchwork quilt of history
Of the mothers and fathers who have gone before
Sewn together with the glorious stories of yesterday
Stitched with the future's threads
The hopes and dreams of the generations yet to be
My heart, my soul, my skin, my home