Quietly lying tactile feeling
with a slow and slowly losing
of such insubstantial loss
with imperceptible changing hue
tonal changes of a most subtle nature
seen but not realised except perhaps by you
holding firmly on rounded luscious curves
hanging on to upright form
testing inexperienced anxieties
waiting to see if you will run
or go beyond the confines
of your designated spaces
sable’d marks gently fallow
as to hardness your softness turns
first to a softy skin’ned cover
and then to firmness goes
speeded with a warmth of summer
to the wanted hardened surface
of the perfect silken film like finish
that was promised on the can
did you ever think that you would
sit and watch as slowly, slowly
paint dried in front of your eager
expectant doubtful eyes?
David Taylor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/skin-13/
