A little strip of me

 A piece of me is torn off
It is pael and soft
It dries of in the heat of labor
I wonder of the flavor

It becomes harder yet moveable
Like body in itself- suitable

Just a little piece of me
Now isolated, now free
To remind me I exist 
I pick it up to get the gist

I take in my fingers and press
this kills the rest of my body's stress
It doesn't seem to rot or even age
Just a little piece, a remaining grace

What is skin?
The stuff we are born in
Is it love?
a container for blood
Is it shame?
A gateway to pain
Just a cover?
For pleasure between lovers

A piece of me is separated from my heart
Where's the spark?
Alive as it was yesterday
shall I take another to strip away?
A tiny echo of me
it doesn't move it doesn't bleed
it doesn't live, it doesn't need