This Canvas of My Skin

To see the pieces of my soul

laid bare on the canvas

of my skin

is one thing.

To touch

& help reassemble them

is another.

Such is to enter into

the hallowed depths

of my anguish,

passion,

hope

& joy.

‘Tis not for the faint of heart.

Then again, it never is

or ever should be.

But oh,

for those hearty souls

who dare to venture….

For this skin is but

a coarse, unbleached cloth

upon which I project

that I would have you know

from a distance,

channeling your projections

so I might more easily discern

those of weal from those of woe.

Please understand,

I don’t care what judgments

you form within your heart

when you look upon

this unclean tarpaulin of flesh.

‘Tis but an invitation

to look more deeply.

Curiosity tinged with grace

serves sufficient RSVP

to discover what keening

lies beneath.

Disdain becomes your refusal.

Trust me. Though you may yet

be welcome to linger,

you shall never….

And such is the pity,

for I believe

‘tis better I lay my soul bare

upon this meatless tissue,

than bury it deep

in the bitter &

unrepentant darkness

of my heart.

Don’t you?

So tat that!

In other words

Now, that’s gonna tat!

That’ll tat, my friend!

It’s tatt-able

&

Not up for de-tat!

aka

Got tat?

What’s for tat?

&

Tat happens!

~

Any questions?

I didn’t think so!

Though I remain

ever hopeful.