You do hold us in
with your blemishes and freckles
and the funny way you
zipper our scrapes and cuts.
Even your method of draping
blue-black curtains over our bruises
catches amazement. So you weren't made
to smooth old scars and wrinkles.
On aches and itches we decorate you
with salves and scratches. Belly deep
in weight or close to the bone
you follow us all on this ride.
Up and down the slopes of our bodies,
under our armpits, between our toes,
we want your rind to surround us
with a suede tough enough to live in.