Body Glory

photocredit- pinterest

In this breathing castle of wonder,

What does your body look like?

Your hair,

a burning bush with strands too delicate.

Your forehead,

a sub-title with relative dialects.

Your eyes,

two strobes shinning like truth.

Your ears,

neatly etched like words on a tombstone.

Your tongue,

            a thread they would use to stitch life into bodies.

Your teeth,

            a window to eternal life.

Your lips,

            fragile loins of skin folded to give warmth like wool.

Your voice,

a street lamp that would shed light to a street child.

Your shoulders,

            two tripods your soul leans on.

Your neck,

            a pillar for which your temple face sits on.  

Your breasts,

             two waterfalls that meet at the brink of excitement.

Your hands,

a bowl we would use to fetch hope from a drowning river.

Your fingers,

a set of piano keys with myriad melodies.

Your waist,

a slice of sunlight baked into bone and clay.  

Your thighs,

two denominations at peace with themselves.

Your legs,

            a cloven of flesh and rock.

Your feet,

            good tidings in motion.

Your body is fluent English,

Outspoken;

eloquent in color

with skin better than the taste of butter.