I would consider it a crime
To mar your body with a line;
To see your flesh defined as canvas
Would constitute a kind of madness;
Tp paint your body with a rose
Would just be a ploy to remove your clothes;
To stain with ink your perfect skin
Would conjure up a mortal sin,
Policemen should form a line
To protect the reflection of what's divine;
Of course, I would love to see you nude,
Unless, of course you are a dude.
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, ELAINE
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Do not fret about my skin I love the wrapping that I'm in. I will not ink a single cell Pictures branded; words to tell. I cherish long each pore in pink God's color scheme is perfect I think. I also do not pierce or pin The holes I want, are already in. I keep my choices rather simple Celebrate each curve and dimple. I bathe in organic oils and gels, I love the bubbles and their smells. For me art is for the wall Some pictures big, others small. So quickly I tire of the mundane things Like phrases, names and angel wings. When I look back upon the years Through picture albums with my peers I realize how much I've changed My hair and fashion seem deranged. So my Valentine of space, I will not ink any mistakes My slate remains original to me, And yes, I promise I am a SHE! xox