....so that the blue
lights
light,
not the red
.....or the green...
the harness is lined...
no cuts,
just impressions...
pictographs
fade
and
reassemble between or on
other ribs and flanks...
barefoot, knowing where the tiniest escarpments are...and the rip-rap..
flesh blossom-washed,
dried,
anointed
.... carefully, though by now the scars have scars...
appearing
smooth, flawless..even to the practiced eye...

for every waterfall
a barrel...
for each slumgullion,
a bowl...
a sprinkling of invisible ear-notches?

delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/familiar-7/