Sticks and Bones
In the end, intertwined,
ball and socket, fitting.
Double-jointed and anointed
in the thin shroud of their skin.
Scars and old wounds
are healed over –
salved and resolved
under protective cover of love.
Joined at hip and shoulder,
still connected even
when all else is stripped down
to bare bones
still warm, in love’s glow, as sunrise shines
on tendons, and the knobby spine
and ribs form brittle branches
on the tree of life.
This poem was written in response to the sex and art surprise ekphrastic Valentine's Day challenge.
Betsy Mars is a Connecticut-born, mostly California-raised poet, educator, mother, and animal lover. She holds a BA and an MA from USC which she has put to no obvious use. Her work has recently appeared in Verse Virtual, Praxis, and Anti-Heroin Chic, among others.
The Ekphrastic Review
Find a writer, artist, or poem, etc. by searching here: