When impenetrable deep tissue looms, 
my bunk Buster digits have zero-fail success rates. 
A pinpointed strike causes Scapulae to liquify
    on contact.
Upon such, Sultry's mission is accomplished. 

'Tis similarly complete when Keratin creeps
     past my defenses. 
The successful scraping of susceptible scalps
renders myself defenseless. 

'Tis a blessing being vulnerable--to leave limbs and life uncovered,
    only in the presence of certified hands.
For, they appreciate the contours sight never could've;
sinew longs for healing sight never cured.

As tissue softens, the question looms;
what are pleasure censor limitations?
     None, I pray, will I find.

From the Soul,

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📕“The Massage (Poem)” is a piece from my upcoming published anthology, “Return from the Pale Trail: Gifts to Humanity We’ve Been Taught to Forget.” I’m ecstatic to share this wonderful piece of literature with the family. I hope you all enjoy. Until then, feel free to check out my other published materials.