I am addicted to skin,
not a particular woman's skin,
all and every woman's skin

(stop here,

If you are uncomfortable,
with this writ, for me then,
it be a consoling poem,
an adoration of skin,
a comfort food,
that I cannot live without)

see what you cannot see,
inside this one's
brain-eyes-tongue-soul-whatever
whatever you name his five sense-sifting-all combination,
I don't care

I drink skin
all textures
all colors
every woman
every woman ageless  
every woman street passing
touched and taken
no fabric but the
fabric of her skin
tween my thumb and forefinger
on my stippled senses
enlivened

I taste skin,
like a good poem,
the cheek, the shoulder bare,
the in between spaces,
the minty hint of décolleté,
the ankle chain,
turning my breath heated,
tips of red noses,
I take and
I keep
and no,
no refunds, no returns

I see
your skin, as a gift to myself
created, donated, by you,
and by me,
aggregated

tho you think I am selfish
I thank you always

I hear
you cells splitting,
rejuvenating,
you nourish,
I flourish

I smell your
skin-scented au naturel aroma,
and inward smile,
a parfume
named after me,
who knew?

you knew

stop enough!

softly, no, softly never enough...

every wrinkle, every blemish
every tablecloth of skin so
lovely set, so smooth glowing,
I weep,
I seep
inside
and
touch me touching you
and
for every cell of mine dying,
two of you,
two for you,
so you may live longer,
one of mine,
lingers
within you
evermore

you nourish,
I flourish

For Helen
who wrote it first,
who wrote it better,
and in doing so,
makes me see more clearly
the why

~~~~~~~~~

no poem should ever be untitled
every face needs a name
every poem needs just
one read for completion,
but more than that, it is
a orphan still, deserving of,
due the
entitlement to be titled,
a parenting of sorts

what was the thought that born it
what was the emotion that conceived it
what was the sight that demanded sharing

this is the age of summary and synthesis,
140 and not one more,
so give direction, enable me to make
snap judgements, with so much on my plate,
we must predigest your concepts,
my multi-tasking slowed to levels unacceptable,
so I can adjudge you,
you worker poet,
before or never reading
after all,
why read anything untitled

more than this however,
for the few who chew
each morseled vowel,
ken each constant consonant,
celebrate stanzas that halt the breathing
and then,
god bless the whole child,
flaws and all,
they more than anyone deserve
your consideration in return

for the title is the essence spark
of you
and all the more so
of what you have  chosen *to share
of your essentials