This stunning book took me so much longer than normal to read because every single poem absolutely rocked me. I couldn't read more than a couple at a time because they each gave me so much to think about, so much to learn, so much stark beauty to just sit back and go, "Whoa."

The first poem, bearing the same name as the book, sets up the thesis: "Because skin has a memory all its own and because memory is a language that's survived its skin." The second poem, "Snake. Tree. Rope. Wall." teaches the reader how to read that memory, creating the language together with the reader:
"Let's agree to call what we're touching his hand.
Let's say it's warm.
Let's agree our hands are enough to judge. Let's say the hollows in his skull are eyes and that all eyes can shine if you sweep the flies from them.

Let's say we are certain of this one thing
then let's never touch it again."

I could go on and on about every single poem. I'm kind of overwhelmed by even trying to review this book because it is so familiar in terms of theme and landscape, and it flays while it heals. So much of this book is underlined now; there were several poems where I ended up underlining the entire thing. Each line, each word is that important, that beautiful. I'll be reading this one over and over again. ( )