The Canvas Between Bone & Skin (Poem)

Panoramic view
with rain-
bow hues
& all
in—between
splitter-splattered
when I
flip my
skin in(side)out,
you say; -
A magna-
fiscent flesh.
Yet I
see no
glisten how-ever
deep I
listen. &
it’s humorous (?)
how drinking
1,2,3 bottles
of scarlet-
as-fresh-
blood-sangria
back-to-back
doesn’t intoxify
me as
much as
an in-
halation — ex-
halation exchange
in your
pr(essence).
Skin ‘neath
the skin
we can
all see
beckons,beams
with brilliance
of four
suns jam-
packed.
I am
re-birthed by
you. my (male)
mother, you
need no
womb, just
whimsical whispers;
my spirit
rides the
gentle curves
of those
sound waves

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Eva X. The Poetess – © Eva Xanthopoulos 2013.
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