Nude Shell

[Todd]

Well I missed commenting on the first draft, even though I had read it a few times, so I'll comment on the revision.

So, lets see title change. Strip Vs. Nude Shell. The first is a command or a verb. Taking off your clothes or stripping away layers. The second has Nude which implies female as guys tend to get naked as their word. Shell implies that something is growing inside. It might suggest emptiness or potential. Since I took the blood on first read to be menstruation, I think I like the title change. It also is the more evocative choice and fits the tone a bit better.

First revision:

citrus scents the wet air;--I like that you start with something sensory both with the citrus and the wetness of the air.
water drifts down the small of my back,
glides across the curve of my thigh.--I'm a bit conflicted, while I like the slow sensuality of the word choices when I get to the next line and hear that nothing will remove the blood, I get the feeling that the speaker is trying to remove the blood and the water in these above lines seems to be moving too slow for that. If that makes sense.

nothing will remove the blood
running down my calf--This is a great line to place the subject otherwise our view is too broad.
like a train headed for the sun,--Better than the wreck and good phrasing, but I'm having trouble with your imagery. The blood is clearing the train because it is motion down the track (of the calf) the sun would maybe be the drain in this image at the bottom of a shower. I have a hard time with it because I don't usually imagine the sun down below me. A tunnel, falling into an impossibly long crevice, maybe. Your phrasing is really good I just don't know if sun fits your image.
searching for a
breath of immortality.--Again cool phrasing and idea, unless you can tie the puffing of a  locomotive into this breath though it sort of falls apart for me. Maybe a different word than searching and a little more work extending the train imagery.

you're dirty, sick.
...an anomaly.

i touch my breasts,
coldly.

that's right.
a... fucking monster.--I started a discussion thread once on using fuck in poetry. I don't have an issue with it. It can be done well (i.e., Larkin) so my comments have nothing to do with your word choice here. I simply think your poem would end better on coldly.

[[note: should i expand on the last two stanzas?]]

Original:

citrus scents the wet air;
water drifts down the small of my back,
the curve of my thigh.

nothing will remove the blood
running down my calf
like a train wreck
headed for wide-eyed glory.

you’re dirty, sick.
…an anomaly.

i touch my breasts,
coldly.

that’s right.
i’m a fucking monster!

I like how you're developing this. Hope some of the comments helped.

Thanks,

Todd