Peeking Inside

Peeling away
each layer,
he finds her
undiscovered-self
beneath
the center
of her being.

Her hair berets
which held
her braids
in place
have fallen
by the way side now
and each new
strand undone
until the wavelets
stand erect.

Like so,
her each
adopted syllabus
of ink and perforation
yet exposed
are last revealed
as the members
of her fashion fall
link to link
a strewn loss trail
of the clothing
of a lass.

Beyond the outland layers
shimmer falling spring
the bread tie twists
of string expansion
loss and leaving less
and less
until the skin
is all there is
and then thin
threads all left
tread tightly
as a drum
except the open
flesh that makes
the mesh
between her world
and all that's not.

And here,
cascading out
as open resounding
as an echoed moan
a canyon miles away,
her lisp lead lips
lead on into
a scent of promised
zeal.

Enough on this,
it's time enough,
then time
to slip her seal.

Open, then
the journey
thus begins.

runningturtle87