Paul Willis
Hidden Flesh
These rising moons beneath
translucent fingernails—
all day they circle this globe
of thought and rest
from their orbits at night.
Five leftward, five rightward,
open secrets
that never touch, preserved
in pink museums of shell,
they remain the most intimate
parts of my body, and of yours—
erogenous zones
no lover has ever found,
where no foot will ever make
a small
step for humankind.
Copyright
© by Paul Willis 2007. All rights reserved.
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