This body of mine

This body of mine.

Wretched; leaking

stink from every pore,

spreading decay to

everything touched:

metal, food, flower, paper;

shedding dead skin

every moment;

creating odour odour odour…

But in your arms

transformed: into a

messy tangle of

limbs, hair, sighs.

No longer decaying.

No longer dying.

Suddenly desirable.

This body of mine.