The Common Skins

the common skins
of history's want...
in pages forgotten,
on shelves forbidden.

beauty disrobes,
her long hair sketches,
the contours of longing,
as the tongue pants.

but tis only rain,
they deny with religious furor.
her breasts mere mountains,
her lips dormant volcanoes.

hell, even the stones know,
and tremble!
trees dance the mating dance,
and wild geese fly...

following the scent of the storm!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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