Canvas 

Paint on my naked back
With your fingers a story,
A sketch of your intentions
And a description of its glory.
Between these arching blades
In the valley a canvas awaits
To be painted on its silk terrain
And explored in all its range.
Draw down my median furrow 
A line that’s long crossed
Treading the bridges of crest iliac
You’ll find your brushes lost.
Spill the paint down the nape
And watch the colors of fire flow
Filling the Venusian dimples,
Making this poster explode.
Paint on my naked back
With your fingers a story,
A stroke of your actions
And a mark for the memory.