An Ode to Skin

Pale, soft, light gentle flowing a stream of plush, an undeniable fuss trickling down drops transparent sweet bliss intertwining down the path roads with spoons rather than sharp forks engulfing all there is leaving no room for unsecure insecurities to be locked up inside never to be seen from the outside eyes of onlookers Raised east, yearning warmth chills glide through each strand with air pores open like palms to the sky asking for rain to wash away all doubt, drought.