Epidermal MacabreIndelicate is he who loathesThe aspect of his fleshy clothes,-The flying fabric stitched on bone,The vesture of the skeleton,The garment neither fur nor hair,The cloak of evil and despair,The veil long violated byCaresses of the hand and eye.Yet such is my unseemliness:I hate my epidermal dress,The savage blood's obscenity,The rags of my anatomy,And willingly would I dispenseWith false accouterments of sense,To sleep immodestly, a mostIncarnadine and carnal ghost.
-Theodore Roethke
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