A Question of Skin
She wonders if she'll be the same
after going into her body's nakedness to sleep.
Will she get, her eyes, hair, mouth again
or will she be all touch, smell, color, a rainbow
on the floor, a match to detect prints,
maps pinned with flowers and cities of blood?
She doesn't ask for directions; before losing
herself inside silent lips, she scratches the roaring
lion-tattoo and the red-burning skin will be her
lighthouse when she wakes.

