My Skin Still Sings

My skin still sings
As the tide of my memory
Laps gently at its shore
Like the cool waves of your fingers
Once did.

My skin still sings
Across an ocean where
Tide upon tide of longing
Will ebb and flow
Upon flotsam-littered beaches.

My skin still sings
But now a bleak lament
Grips in its undertow
The fragile raft which bears
Its tender love song.

My skin still sings.
My skin sings
To your skin.

Nice poem, with the metaphor maintained and developed throughout. The repetition of the refrain line does tend to grate because of the short stanza length, but I would not alter them. It's effective enough. I do suggest you consider adding an adjective to 'ocean' in S2. It feels to me like it's begging for a modifier.

Alcuin

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Monkeys: There are no monkeys here. If you're looking for monkeys, go away. Well, actually there are monkeys, but they're of the hairless variety that writes poetry and such. If that's not what you're looking for move along.

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