This is a body
You can touch me
I am organic matter
moving constantly.
Sometimes you let me be.
I breathe and smell and rot.
Sometimes you interfere.
I break and burn in the sun,
but sometimes, you watch me
run.
These are raindrops, or planets seen from a distance.
Do not mistake them for footsteps, or birthmarks.
These are real. Touch them.
Mistake them for errors, or scars.
I do not want to break
my face in half.
I shy away from the dying
of desire.
Tell me I am still
beautiful to you.
I will smile
until you do.
