my skin has dance within it
one, two fifty, seven million pores
open to the air, in a sea of movement
it is independent of my will
but depends upon my mood
lives without painting
and prefers to be naked than dressed
my skin is fruit, vegetables, meat and fish
all of it shivers with pleasure
contracts with pain
dives into the water, and dries in the sun
it protects me from troubles and shelters me
hides my secrets
it shines
and loses it self in the trees.
my skin is softer between the legs
and is perfumed
my skin is the colour of chocolate mingled with
sun drops