My Truth

My Truth I am an original My body, my diary, my totem temple, a living portrait frozen in time. Black ink flows as fluidly as the lineage in my vein. Every line, every curve roams my ivory plane. I cannot bow down nor demur, I have bared my soul indelibly. My poetry in flesh. Needled into skin __love-erotic therapy. Pain is my sacrifice and I will bleed for my truth. related link: http://thearyan.com/category/poem/#.Uw9WpPmeB3Y