Flesh Tones
A pilgrimage of phantom limbs
in a jumble sale of sex.
A lost jigsaw of pieces
riddled by the waves.
Your hip hook is cast through
the shadow of my shoulder.
Flotsam limbs, I’ll get to know
through parts of me I never see
with too many holes for comfort.
Where missing fingers
grope for reasons
nesting kneecaps jostle to rest.
I hear the sea
through a random ear
cold pressed onto an open thigh.
Shoulder sockets pivot into
thin blow-moulded cheeks
as you turn your back away.
A life of slimming
waisted now you’re
just an arm or head.
But not before one final wink
from a gimballed eye
mascaraed thick with salt.
Winston Plowes lives on a canal boat in Yorkshire with two reluctantly sea faring cats. His work varies from strict rhyme through traditional ghazals to experimental arrangements for voice, accordion and tuned bucket. More can be found on his site http://www.winstonplowes.co.uk
Martin Waters is an assemblage artist and photographer. Find out more here http://martin-waters.co.uk/. Note: All of the doll parts in Flesh Tones come from the sea.