Skin Deep Poem by David Taylor

A smooth silent gliding viscous liquid
Silently seeping creeping gently downwards
Over a sleek and tender surface
With no growth left growing anywhere
After the apprehensive gritting
Of your teeth as the wax goes ripping
Waxing is a girly thing with a very manly sting

Sliding, slicing at pulled up roots
Glistening stainless steeled with sharpness
On the edge it cuts and glides
And snags on spots leaving crimson tides
After the lavish application of soft soapy lubrication
As you tighten skin, the razor goes sliding slashing
Shaving is a manly thing with a very girly sting.

Or with a grainy gritness
Rubbed with circulating stiffness
Of bristled scrubbing brushing briskness
To remove half dead particles
Of skin not shed by natural deadness
Leaving a glowing exfoliated lushness
A girly blushness or
With too much vigour
A manly sore and ruddy redness.

This poem’s just skin deep
I know
A superficial treatment
That cannot cleanse so deep
To ever reach
Your heart or soul.