Poetry on her skin.

Hey! I wrote this poem based off of a prompt I got from another poem by the same name. Check it out here: “click me”. I hope you like it! Also, I deliberately put in a reference to Marvel because Avengers: Endgame is always on my mind. Enjoy the poem and tell me what you thought!


1957,
one autumn night,
she asked me to write poetry on her skin.
It was right after I’d kissed her waist
and told her how her skin reminded me of paint –
of blue seas, white birds, yellow autumn leaves, and red wine,
every shade that made her human.
She smiled because she knew the artist in me was talking.
She took a pen and gave it to me
and asked me to color her with shades of poetry.

Now generally, I’d use kisses and finger trails
instead of words for this poem
but when I looked at her,
the blue in her eyes became my ink,
and words knocked the doors on my fingertips.

“Dandelions,
protecting two infinity stones,”

I wrote for her eyes.
For her lips,
“my wine glass, happy days, forever.”
On her shoulders, I wrote about my first time on a beach,
the golden sandpaper and spilled ink bottle.
I filled every inch of her skin,
every inch of my home,
with words I’d picked on my way.
Her spine read stories of our first kiss –
rushed but real
like having Pizza when you’re hungry.
Right below the spine were poems of clouds.
Her calves had callbacks to the time
we posted love letters to the moon.
Mountains and lost nomads echoed stories on her chest,
and the word ‘home’ on her heart.

I wrote poetry on her skin for hours,
until she became poetry inside and out.
Then, we made love
literally and metaphorically.


Into stories? – A storyteller’s guide
Instagram – @myspirals

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