Within this Skin

Hovering over this fine brew

To feed the crave that seizes you,
In your liquor, there Ill slip
My own right mind, a bitter drip.
As I bow to you, dear man,
You think youve cut my thoughts in span,
From the slew of patron prattle,
I have learned to choose my battles.
From the cow, I reap the milk
And into scarves I sew the silk,
But found in curds and hems alike,
Shattered onyx, ladies strife.
And while my virtue did stay true,
Ere children (mine) eyed idol (you),
To them Ill teach to take control,
Their bodies theirs, not timed or tolled.
I hide my words in caves and dunes,
Encode my protests into runes,
For otherwise, it would be sin
Were they not said within this skin
(Sophia Koval, February 3, 2015)