I
watch her from the bed
As
she stands herself
Before
the tall wooden-frame mirror
Studying
her naked torso.
Thin
shoulders bowed with hopelessness
Bracketing
two sags that refuse to look
At
anything else than her own feet.
She
moves both her hands over the belly
And
gathers the folds of skin that hang loose
From
her navel to the stubbly pubis.
Desire
and humiliation swept over me:
Pity
and lust, otherwise;
Decay
and new birth troubled me:
Ruins
and salvations, otherwise.
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